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I've never been the biggest fan of Christmas. Not because my family always pretended to be something they weren't, it was that every single year something changed. Everything always changed, sometimes good, sometimes horrible. Take last year for an example: My parents' not so secret secret came out: they split up and were getting a divorce. The only thing that never really changed were my friends, I always spent some time with my friends. My less chaotic family. The Pogues. John B, our leader. Kie, our mother. Pope, the brains. And JJ, the jester. They never really changed. They always stayed, and they always loved me.
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And now I'm sitting on the beach Christmas Eve night. The boneyard as everyone liked to call it. A red solo cup in my hand with some type of liquid alcohol contained in it. Every year we threw a party... a rager. And every year I sat on a piece of driftwood and listened to the ocean waves crash. Every single year I thought about the things I always did. Everything that always changed around me.
The night sky is full of stars and welcoming. The moonlight wasn't very bright, but it was there. I loved to sit by the ocean and think, let the salt water smell entice me. Every year there was a fire... a bonfire. Everyone would surround the fire and drink their beverages, dancing and laughing. And every single year I sat here and listened to the noises around me. Growing sadder and sadder, number and number. I was the observer of our group... I wasn't the mother, or the jester, or the leader or the brains. I watched people and noticed things, even when you didn't want me to.
I noticed how John B would pull on his bandanna when he got nervous, how Kie would tap her knees with her thumbs when she was bored. Or how Pope would clench his jaw and hold back tears when he was angry. And then there was JJ... how he slept with countless girls on the island to cover his pain up, to find some kind of comfort in something even just for a moment. I knew all he really wanted was a relationship... all he wanted was some comfort. And every single damn year I would notice how John B would man the music, always picking what was right in the moment. Kie would always sit with the other Pogue's and try to make a point of something. Pope would try to mask his feelings for the curly haired girl in our group, by making shameful attempts at flirting with a random girl. JJ, no matter the season, no matter the party, would always flirt with some pretty girl. Native to the island or touron. Never really mattered he always brought them home.
It didn't matter that there were Kooks here. It was a celebration, different from the rest of the parties we threw. Sparklers, sparkling cider, sparkling wine. Sparkling lights along the trees. Shiny sparkling cups when the moon light hit them just right. We seemed to have some kind of obsession with things that sparkled. And at that thought it made me smile. And as I looked around, I held back tears and smiled big at the happy teenagers around me. Laughing, dancing and smiling. This was what a celebration was about, but every year I could never bring myself to join in. In fear that something drastic would change yet again. That maybe my friends would soon hate me.
