My Thoughts

Christmas 2024(1/2)

     It was a cold, Winter Christmas Eve, and my whole family came to spend the holidays with me in my home. It's been over two years since we've last spoken to each other, so I would like to reconnect with my family again. I only hope that everything goes well because let's just say that my peeps aren't the most calm, and collected people in the world. Just a nice, peaceful Christmas is all I want. Is that too much to ask?

   Right now it's dinner time, so everyone came to the table and got themselves seated. My aunts were finishing up the cooking, and my cousins including myself,  helped set the table. After everything was all nice and dandy we sat down, and gave thanks for the food we have on the table.

That's when all hell broke loose...

My tia Carmen started to speak. "So how's work Grecia? I guess it's been well since you've been so busy to spend time with your family," she looked directly at me, while cutting a piece of ham quite angrily.

Great! I think to myself. This is going to be a long ass dinner. It's been two years. Two fucking years!  God please help me survive this.

"Well yes! I have been swapped of work, meetings, traveling, and it takes up a lot of my time," I replied. 

The only reason I haven't been to Mexico in two years is that, my mom died in a car accident then. It's been hard for me to accept that she's not here with me anymore, and Mexico reminds me a lot of her. So I just don't feel ready to go back without sulking in my sorrow.

Somehow I feel guilty. If I hadn't been so damn stubborn and if I had been there before she went in that stupid car then maybe she'd still be here.

These past two years I've dealt with panic attacks, and let me tell you they are not fun. I never told my family because they're pretty judgmental. I've never been able to trust them with this kind of stuff. I know that if I were to open up with them, and tell them how I feel, instead of receiving  constructive advice, and a warm hug; I would receive a cold ass slap on my face, so why would I even bother being humiliated again.

"Do you work?" She continued her interrogation.

"Mmm... yes I work, how would you think I pay my bills?!" I answer with a mix of sarcasm in my voice. Honestly how does she thinks I am able to survive life, by being a fucking stripper?! I mean not to be offensive, but why do they always  think the worst of me? What did I do?

  I'm a Makeup Artist, ever since I was a child I have loved makeup, and I grew my passion at the point to make something that it could be useful in my life. However, while I was freelancing, my bills were getting higher at the point that I had to increase my work hours. But still I didn't have the amount of money to pay my them off. I sacrificed many things; taking away my luxuries that I owned, limited my amount of services that I needed, etc. Plus having chronic panic attacks, it didn't helping me at all. Until one day my brain lightened up! I have seen many Makeup Artists sharing their work on Instagram. After that I decided to do the same sharing my work to make people want my service, I didn't know that my work would get recognized by many people in the beauty industry, I was speechless that I could've been able to do that. My work was getting better, I could finally pay my bills, and still have money for myself. 

That's what my family doesn't know, they always say that I'm the one who just lives carelessly. That i'm fucking selfish El burro hablando de orejas, they don't even care about me. The only reason they're probably here is because they want to judge me. They don't even care if it's Christmas Eve, or whatever holiday it might be, they are here to judge my ass. 

 I remembered that my aunt had been talking--more like yelling-- so that made me come back to my annoying reality. 

"... I CAN'T BELIEVE THAT YOU'RE BEING SO RUDE TO NOT EVEN PAY ATTENTION TO WHAT I HAVE TO SAY TO YOU," she yelled. "ALL THE FAULT IS THAT DUDE THAT YOU HAVE ON YOUR WRIST!" She pointed at my Michael Jackson tattoo that was etched onto my wrist.  Is she fucking serious? She's just being too extra right now! I need to leave here now! I know that it's my house, but if I don't exit this place in the next ten seconds I'm going to go nuts. 

"You know what," I got up out of my chair. "you're right I'm being so fucking rude, I'm really fucking sorry of my fucking actions, and that's why I'm getting the fuck out of here." I nicely responded. They all get astonished by my distinguished vocabulary. I walk to my key holder that was on the door, got my car keys, my jacket, and went straight to my car. 

At this point I didn't care where I was going, I didn't know the place I was headed to, but the only thing I wanted was to be way far far away from my house.

Then I had the feeling  that I need to stop, and right here in the middle of nowhere... but wait there's a fucking gate! Wait this wasn't here... nah maybe I'm just blind!...

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--If anyone is wondering what the heck you're reading, well this  is my first official imagine that I ever created. The story behind this is that, last year I was bored in class so I started to daydreaming (like always), & I wrote it down. However, while I was writing in here I decided to make some changes to see how it turns out. The original plan was to write everything done and post it,but I added a lot of stuff that it would make it a long ass page & for being the first imagine that I wrote, and I want to see the response of my story.  Btw I wanted to thank someone for helping me on grammar mistakes,but this particular creature doesn't want any credit so I have to make this anonymous thank you a lot Mi Chienne.