After reluctantly pulling myself out of a drunken slumber, I surveyed the incandescent room, thinking that I heard a voice or two coming from inside the apartment. Of course, no one is here. My imagination created warm regards to a mother 1,740 miles away, who I sincerely hope is spending her Thanksgiving with a friend or two, being that the rest of her family isn’t any nearer to accompany her for celebration. One thing is for sure: my roommates are with their families. I wish them glad tidings and delicious sides that surround their turkey dinner. I wish them laughter and wonderful memories with their loved ones as well.
My plans to walk to the gym have been extinguished as I’ve awoken thirty minutes before it closes and since the walk will take longer than that, my mind races with possibilities concerning what the hell to do with myself. Breakfast will likely be eggs and toast, my Thanksgiving meal will be chicken and veggies and beer, and the remainder of my time will be spent keeping the apartment in order, controlling my misadventure in cleanliness from the day before, so as to allow my girlfriend to come home with not a single chore to latch onto after such a long drive.
It’s cold. A nice kind of breeze brushes against the exterior of the apartment while my body rests on the couch with an aura of shame that isn’t warranted, nevertheless it is my understanding that perhaps I do not crave so much to be alone as I had once thought, proudly pinning the proverbial merit badge atop the uniform that is my human body, advertising my lack of versatility on the subject. Instead of taking this chance to write – there’s plenty of time to get on that today – my fingertips burned to post a letter to no one wherever it is that this can be read. I am 26 years old and I am alone on Thanksgiving. Two days ago that thought didn’t bother me, it excited my batteries – they could finally recharge! Yet here I am, lamenting the significance of this choice.
In the end everything is fine. It’s all gravy, baby. Although, I do not have any gravy, it’s going to be okay. Netflix is here to chill with me. Food is here even if it doesn’t fit the typical dish. There is so much to be thankful for.
First off, sorry to all Native Americans. I know this holiday may not excite anyone from your background. If I could rewrite history, if any of us could actually see with our own eyes what had actually occurred, I know in my heart that many would rally against and others would be just as happy to do something about it. This isn’t the world we live in, so no more empty promises. I do wish everyone of you a great day and night as the year crawls to an end, though.
But what am I thankful for? Family and friends, of course. I am extremely grateful for work – it was touch and go there for a while – especially the prospect of another lucrative occupation working itself out. I am thankful for the love of my life, who has never backed down from this hectic and grueling, but oh so blessed life that we’ve formed together, even when a few times she probably could have and no one would have blamed her. I love you, Sarah. I love you so BIG. There is so much to be thankful for. I’m happy that I’ve been able to finally form some kind of relationship with Sarah’s sister. Once we got to know each other, it seemed that our guards dropped a bit and now we can be ourselves, no matter how alien to the other. I’m even thankful for spending this holiday alone. It’s given me ample time to think about where I’ve been heading and if that journey is the one that I should take. I’m thankful for Rankin/Bass – I’m totally watching Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer sometime today. Also, I’m thankful for the pumpkin pie that my girlfriend left after having me try it – I always thought I hated pie – now it is mine for the devouring. Lately, though, I’ve been thankful to have so many people, whether rotating or consistently, in my life that affected me on a grand scale, informing and enforcing who the hell this guy is or was or will be. I can never put into words how much that truly meant to me growing up.
Well, enough mushy stuff from the mushiest cynic who ever graced this beautiful blue – and increasingly brown – planet called earth. I hope that you, too, have a lot to be thankful for and I wish you a delicious and memorable Thanksgiving with your friends and family, but if you’re alone this holiday, like I am, let’s crack open a beer to quietly (or loudly, go for it) say to ourselves, “Cheers to life! Without it we wouldn’t be here! And what a life it’s been!”