Mistletoe; reflections of every sort

Oh, merry Christmas, merry Christmas, merry Christmas.

But do they know it's Christmas time at all? They starve, we eat. We throw it all away. 25, 000 people will starve. Twenty-five thousand.

Oh, merry Christmas, merry Christmas, merry Christmas.

How the boys search for love and pair up not a moment too soon. Because feigned Christmas cheer is better than none at all? I wish them happiness.

Oh, merry Christmas, merry Christmas, merry Christmas.

How I start to wonder how many hearts I've broken this Christmas. And the count is higher than last year, no doubt. But I chastise myself for doing this, and for feeling so happy about Christmas.

Oh, merry Christmas, merry Christmas, merry Christmas.

Because this Christmas, despite being alone, I am in a good place. I'm at Oxford, I'm more aware now than before what I am and what I am capable of, and I'm starting to come into my own a bit. To discover what power I may have over others that I never knew I had.

Oh, merry Christmas, merry Christmas, merry Christmas.

And because Christmas love is in another place, unformed and indelicate, like unformed clay or batter. Like cookie dough. Batter which can form in the new year, if I cook it at the right pace. But a watched pot never boils, so perhaps I should care less?

Oh, merry Christmas, merry Christmas, merry Christmas.

I wonder how many of my friends will cry this Christmas. Cry for lost loves, cry for joy, cry for disappointment, cry for tragedy or Eastenders. I wonder how many will find that first kiss with that person. I wonder how many will come to conclusions they had held at bay too long, under the auspices of the greatest moment of the year. "Do I really love him?", "Can I fight it another year?", "It could have been magical."

Oh, merry Christmas, merry Christmas, merry Christmas.

Ho, ho, whore. Could she afford presents this year? Does she sob at night, under the weight of expectation, under fear of her pimp, or for fear her oldest daughter must know what she does for money?

Oh, merry Christmas, merry Christmas, merry Christmas.

Smash, crash, bash. Deck her halls. Have a punch, dear. Merry Christmas. // Families reunited by the holiday, and friendships re-established.

Oh, merry Christmas, merry Christmas, merry Christmas.

One day, for one thing that never mattered, for so many people and places and years, can cause one to reflect on so much. Which is a shame, because I should be wrapping presents, or rushing out to buy last-minute gravy and Yorkshire puddings.

Oh, merry Christmas, merry Christmas, merry Christmas.

Only I don't want to.