Eric Bittle (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
puckandpie) wrote2015-12-07 06:26 pm
puckandpie) wrote2015-12-07 06:26 pm
Entry tags:
homesick blues [dated to 12/10]
I've always loved Christmas. It never really got all that cold down in Georgia and it was a miracle if we ever even got snow, but there was always something magical about the holiday seasons with all the Christmas trees around and the decorations on the streets and in the malls and classrooms. Everyone always seemed in a slightly better mood, too. For the most part, at least.
And Christmas Day itself, well... Mama and I would spend weeks planning the dinner and dessert menus and hours decorating the dining room, making sure every place setting was just perfect. More than once, a present I'd received earlier in the day could be used in helping prepare food later that day and we'd put on Mama's favorite old Christmas albums, all the ones with Bing Crosby and Elvis Presley and sing and dance around all day.
Of course, sometimes things got stressful and we definitely had more than a couple arguments, but it's not those I ever remember so much. Especially not now.
It's been over four months now since I got here and even with all the wonderful people I've met, even with Derek and Thomas and Simon and Neil, I'd still give almost anything to go back. I actually can't think of a single thing I wouldn't give right now just to see my Mama again. Or hear her laugh. She embarrassed the dickens out of me sometimes, but she always meant well and she was my very favorite person to bake with.
And I still haven't gotten used to the idea that I may never see her again. To be honest, I don't really want to.
Usually, working at Semele's is good for distraction. It's always so busy and loud and exciting with the bartenders calling out food orders and Derek rushing in and back out again, replenishing the stock and making sure everything's running smoothly.
But it's like every little thing is reminding me of home these, whether it be the kinds of pies people are special ordering or the drinks they're requesting at the bar or the plans they're all making with their families. Derek's jukebox played Mama's very favorite Christmas song this evening and it took every bit of willpower I had not to run into the bathroom in tears.
It's late and so, so cold by the time I'm ready to leave work and I don't even think before pulling out my phone, scanning through my contacts. I hover over Blue's name, debating for a second. We're maybe not best best friends, but she's always been so nice and she's a fellow Southerner and she lives in the same building. There's every possibility she's either not home or asleep, but she responds to the text I send almost immediately and I make sure to grab a few slices of the pecan pie we hadn't managed to sell tonight before heading over.
I have my emotions mostly in check by the time I reach her door and I knock softly just in case she's managed to fall asleep in the time it's taken me to get here.
And Christmas Day itself, well... Mama and I would spend weeks planning the dinner and dessert menus and hours decorating the dining room, making sure every place setting was just perfect. More than once, a present I'd received earlier in the day could be used in helping prepare food later that day and we'd put on Mama's favorite old Christmas albums, all the ones with Bing Crosby and Elvis Presley and sing and dance around all day.
Of course, sometimes things got stressful and we definitely had more than a couple arguments, but it's not those I ever remember so much. Especially not now.
It's been over four months now since I got here and even with all the wonderful people I've met, even with Derek and Thomas and Simon and Neil, I'd still give almost anything to go back. I actually can't think of a single thing I wouldn't give right now just to see my Mama again. Or hear her laugh. She embarrassed the dickens out of me sometimes, but she always meant well and she was my very favorite person to bake with.
And I still haven't gotten used to the idea that I may never see her again. To be honest, I don't really want to.
Usually, working at Semele's is good for distraction. It's always so busy and loud and exciting with the bartenders calling out food orders and Derek rushing in and back out again, replenishing the stock and making sure everything's running smoothly.
But it's like every little thing is reminding me of home these, whether it be the kinds of pies people are special ordering or the drinks they're requesting at the bar or the plans they're all making with their families. Derek's jukebox played Mama's very favorite Christmas song this evening and it took every bit of willpower I had not to run into the bathroom in tears.
It's late and so, so cold by the time I'm ready to leave work and I don't even think before pulling out my phone, scanning through my contacts. I hover over Blue's name, debating for a second. We're maybe not best best friends, but she's always been so nice and she's a fellow Southerner and she lives in the same building. There's every possibility she's either not home or asleep, but she responds to the text I send almost immediately and I make sure to grab a few slices of the pecan pie we hadn't managed to sell tonight before heading over.
I have my emotions mostly in check by the time I reach her door and I knock softly just in case she's managed to fall asleep in the time it's taken me to get here.
no subject
She watches him as he talks, the way he sort of talks with his hands even when he's not sitting up, his eyes big as he remembers. "I know," she says quietly. She doesn't know, but she does. She misses home so much it hurts, even though if she were back she'd want to leave again. Blue doesn't like not having a choice about it.
"You never know," she says with a sideways smile. "Maybe the team'll end up here too."
no subject
She's trying to be reassuring, I know, and while I definitely appreciate it, I'm finding it hard to really believe right now.
Frowning down at my hands, I shrug. "I feel like if any of them were coming, it would've happened by now," I tell her, still hating that hitch in my voice. I wait a bit, breathing slow and even until I know I can speak again without sounding pathetic. "There are so many people here with friends from home - you and Noah, Derek, Thomas, Neil. Almost everyone I know here. And maybe you're right, maybe someone will show up eventually but I feel awful and selfish for even wanting that. It's not like there's anything here for them."
no subject
Blue feels bad for having said it. She is enormously lucky to have friends from home, even if she feels trapped here. Even if they feel trapped here. They have each other, and that is better. Ronan's the only one who was here for any amount of time without any of them, and that's another thing she doesn't remember often enough.
"I don't know how it chooses who comes," she says. "I don't think you're selfish. There are the same things here for them as for you - the same opportunities and the same lack of them," she reasons. "I don't know. It sucks," she says, with nothing to say. "But at least we're all stuck here together," she offers. In some ways, Bitty seems to understand the exact nature of her loneliness better than some of the raven boys do. "I know I've got friends here, but they're not my only friends," she tells him.
Which is interesting to say out loud. She hasn't cared about anyone but her boys -- or cared that that's weird -- for almost a year now, and wasn't replacing any meaningful friends. But she's met some people here she finds slotting into her life in very important ways.
no subject
Jack would probably lose his mind without hockey, though.
"I've made all sorts of friends here myself," I tell her, turning my head to smile at her. Because, obviously, she's one of them. "I wouldn't trade any of you for anything, but it's not the same as having my team." And, of course, there's no replacing my mama. Or even Coach. But that goes without saying.
"It's dumb, I know. I know. I just feel so lonely sometimes." And lost. Forgotten. There isn't a single day that goes by I don't wonder why I'm here.