I cried and cried. In the shower, listening to lana del rey, ‘video games’ to be exact. “It’s you, it’s you, it’s all for you” lyrics mocking me. It’s Christmas day. I manufactured perfection. The tree was lit. The coffee was brewed. A Christmas story was on TV. I let him sleep in. I made breakfast. A good one. Bacon, eggs, sausage biscuits, bagels, orange juice.Once I heard him stirring…I woke him with kisses and caresses, a cup of coffee in hand. I love you. Merry Christmas baby. We’re good. Nothing’s wrong. I manufactured perfection. I’m making Christmas memories. I am making up for last year when you left me saying that my cancer wasn’t your problem. I’m having a moment of happiness. Everything is fine. There’s nothing wrong. And then you snap…I asked you to help me take a picture of our dog with a Santa hat on. I am feeling silly. I am having fun. I am making Christmas memories. And you are yelling and frustrated and telling me how stupid it is and what a waste of time it’s going to be and I ask you “Where else do you have to be? What else do you have to do in this moment?” You have no answer. I begin to cry. You can’t stand to see me happy I think to myself. Your insides are so rotten and worn that you can’t stand for me to have a moment…a single moment of happy. I feel crushed, like an insignificant insect. and I am crying, on Christmas day, because after showering you with breakfast in bed, affection, gifts and joy….You are yelling at me because I wanted a picture of OUR dog in a Santa hat. You can’t let me be happy. Ever. I begin to cry because THIS Christmas day is different. This Christmas, I am not in fear of dying from some disease spreading throughout my body. I am not on medication to deal with the stress of losing everything. This Christmas, I am ME. I am strong. I take a moment to cry in the shower at the loss of you. I am through with you, with your misery. It’s company I no longer wish to keep. I cry and cry because I have found ME.