Let's get seasonal.

Somehow, while I've been blinking, staring vainly into a mirror or tweeting something, Christmas has arrived (well, almost!) Less than four days until everyone goes all super-festive and splashes out on turkey crowns and lots of stuffing, Christmas crackers with bad jokes in and of course, stupid hats. Whether you're a fan of this time of year or you're more negatively known as a total Scrooge, there is something kind of magical about it. 

I love Christmas (even though I hate winter.) The happy smiling faces, the tinsel everywhere and the endless reel of festive music played everywhere you go. It seems I can't even go to the shop without hearing someone attempt a BandAid tribute act sporting tatty, bad-fitting Santa hats. It's lovely though, right? Maybe that's just me. All the silly, stupid, eccentric kind of things are all acceptable at this time of year. Spending an unnatural amount of time in close proximity with family, some of which you will probably only see twice in the coming year. The extortionate shopping sprees leaving hundreds of people in debt to enter the new year, because treating anyone and everyone you know is an absolute must on December 25th. The only time anyone dares to wake me up early and doesn't have to fear the wrath of my sharp tongue. From Jack Frost to The Santa Clause, the festive films just seem to be shown on a loop. Fireworks, food and family. Exchanging gifts, spending time with the most special people in my life and just having some time to really reflect on the year gone by, whether it be good, bad or downright ugly. 

So, I'm currently wrapped up in bed watching QI and Mock The Week repeats and humming along to a Christmas song I can't even place now. A smile is resting ever so slightly on my lips. Four days to go. A matter of hours. The shops are going mad. Everyone is frantic. Wrapping paper, cellotape and batteries have never been in higher demand. There's so many fairy lights donned around some streets that it's only a matter of time until they fuse the national grid or the leccy company shut them off as a sign of bad will. 

I'm making Christmas Eve plans to go out, for the first time ever. The first year I'm celebrating Christmas no longer a teenager. Heidi's first Christmas. The first time I've been really unprepared, and I have to be honest, I'm nowhere near as excited as I should be. Fair enough, I'm the big 2-0 now, but still. It's still a special time of year, and I'm thinking of changing my name to Ebenezer unless I start slapping a smile on my face and feeling the spirit. (And no, that's not alcoholic spirit, to my dismay.) The counting has truly begun, everyone is having the will-it/won't-it snow debate and waiting for 25th with bated breath, butterflies and the occasional beer. 

I'm getting there. There's nothing better than spending three days straight with your family talking and reminiscing and exchanging gifts and drinking and eating your own body weight in gorgeous food. 2013 has had it's ups and downs, highs and lows, and I don't know whether I should be nostalgic or relieved to see the back of it. I lost someone special this year, made a hell of a lot of bad choices, and a few good ones. I've made friends and the occasional enemy. I've had a lot of firsts, and hopefully not any lasts. I love and cherish everyone in my life, and I never want to lose them. So, here's to you all. If you're even half as happy as me come Christmas Day, you'll have a wonderful time I'm sure. Whatever you're doing, whether it's a wild party, or a quiet affair, a family reunion or just a peaceful close-knit Christmas, enjoy it. Appreciate everything, especially this time of year. So pens down people, it's officially on it's way. Turn the music on, the heating up and crack open the alcohol. Now that's an entirely different meaning to a merry Christmas. 

x

21 days and counting.

So, I've heard Fairytale of New York about half a dozen times today, there's a tree and lots of tinsel adorning many houses, and advent calendars have begun to be opened, or in some cases, demolished guiltily on December 1st. (We've all done it, don't lie.) The Americans across the water have celebrated thanksgiving, cards are being sent and received and panic-buying for the festive season is at an all-time high. Yes, I suppose the Christmas countdown really has begun. Excitement fills the air as many children cross off the days until Santa arrives, and adults make plans of festive cheer and buy shed loads of Christmassy food and crates of alcohol to see in the new year. 

All of this hustle and bustle, and the imminence of snow, has got me thinking about the ending of one year, and the anticipation of another. As of midnight on January 1st, we will be in 2014. Kind of has a good ring to it, doesn't it? I'm sort of looking forward to it. Maybe because (it's no secret) I love the run up to new year, the organisation, the making plans, the fresh start, clean slate, all that kind of sentimental bullshit bandied about all over greetings cards, fridge magnets and social networks. It's kind of true though. There's something quite liberating about drinking your way into a new year, a new beginning, full of possibilities and new opportunities. Everyone's singing and swaying to Auld Lang Syne with alcoholic beverages in their hands, messily entering a new year. It's just wonderful.

I'm never overly strict with New Years resolutions, but this year, I'm going to make a concerted effort to stick to it. So you're thinking, with bated breath, 'what now?' Well, I'm not planning on anything too unrealistic or unachievable, just this: my New Years resolution is to be a nicer person. Yes, I'm going to make the effort to be a kinder, more helpful, thoughtful individual in 2014. I'm going to try and be selfless where I can, and show the lovely people in my life how much I value and appreciate their presence. Nice and profound ey? Well, who can blame me? It's something a lot of people should work on. I've got one or two people in mind when I say that but I won't give them the satisfaction of naming them. 

So that's mine, what's yours? Or do you have more than one, or an entire list? I imagine that closer to the time, I'll end up compiling a '2014 To Do List' because I'm just the most neurotic person ever, but that's all I've got for now. Anyway, that'd be different. I'm intrigued what everyone else has in mind for a New Years resolution, so let me know. Tweet me: @eleanorward_ or send me a message/comment on here. I'm interested.

I'm not broken.

"We need to sort this out" you said, so matter-of-factly, like it was an equation we were trying to tackle. A problem that could be solved if only the answer could be calculated correctly. You were cold, with that blank look in your eyes. Don't say I'm being "dramatic" and "overreacting" when you know how I feel. Those stolen kisses seem so long ago. The smiles we shared, behind closed doors, the private silly little things we said to one another. Don't irrationalise my reactions just to keep your conscience clear. Shouts and screams, spat out words you can't take back. Slurred insults, the ugly truth announced to a less than willing audience. I told you to walk away, and yet there you stood, looking as arrogant as ever. That blank, smug look so effortlessly placed across your face. You stared straight through me, laughed in my face when I told you, and then, I screamed again. "Just walk away" and when you didn't, what did you expect? I've got more pride than that. To walk away meant so much more than just leaving a moment I didn't want or need to experience. It meant something final. Accepting that yet again, I'd made a huge mistake. Even though I spent such a long time defending your actions, as soon as the tables turned, I didn't need any persuasion. In floods of tears, I walked away. You watched me go, as if to humour me. Slamming the door of the taxi, falling into bed and crying until I was numb and shaky. Ignoring all my texts and phone calls. I didn't want to speak to anyone. I didn't want to hear those fake apologies, of even worse, the "I told you so." The torn moment between biting my tongue and blurting out everything I'd kept back for so long, and i did. It all just came flooding out, along with tears so violently down my cheeks, leaving my eyes bloodshot and my make up blotchy. I walked away from the tequila at the bar, the reassurances from friends, anyone who could attempt to console me. Some things need to be done alone, and with a sober head. The second chance I shouldn't have taken, the person I shouldn't have had to defend, the latest in a long line of mistakes. But don't get to thinking you're making me miserable. I'd rather break my neck than give you the satisfaction of crying over you. I'm stronger than I look y'know.