Dear Santa,

I haven’t wrote you since that year you left my gifts in my parents’ car 2 days before Christmas. I was 7 and I will never forget that feeling… it’s quite similar to what I feel now whenever I realize another person who I gave a pretty much big damn about, is out of my zone. Eyes are getting bigger, mouth gets dried, everything in the stomach boils in acid, feet tremble and I can see a very dreadful (close) future without everything that I just pictured a day before…

I pictured many years ahead of joyful Christmas Eves with you before you disappointed me. I was supposed to get books and notebooks for my one and only hobby, a bicycle 3 years earlier than that one I got for my 11th birthday, some freaking cool hats and lots of weird toys…

But now, 20 years after, I forgive you. And I want you to know that it’s fine, I understand. You just didn’t have enough time for me. There were so many other needy kids who would have cried infinitely if you were to miss them, there were other girls who asked for more complicated gifts that required special attention. There were also girls who didn’t even know you exist so you just gave yourself this pleasure of surprising them. I got it. You are just a man, after all, aren’t you?1511913_765557246814552_4732027843307666592_n

It’s not like you are one x-man with special abilities of reading minds or reading between the lines. I didn’t cry when you left me. I was the saddest I have ever been, though. And it’s weird that I still have the same feeling and fear towards every single man that I picture a future with, but he just sends his regards via …Facebook per se.

So dear Santa, here’s my first wish after 2 decades of hating, blaming, wishing and not having a single Christmas to remember: don’t miss me this time.

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