Cold

I am saddest at Christmas. Every card I get, every phone call and text, is a reminder of how many people couldn't care less about me. Any given time of the year, these people don't care what's going on in my life, or even know, yet I am supposed to receive their pretend interest with appreciation and joy? It's enough to make anybody depressed. I don't want another Christmas. I'm perfectly fine in my own world, away from the toxicity of false love and scheduled happiness.