12.25.25: Christmas Day
By 2 PM on Christmas, the magic is mostly gone. You've opened everything. The wrapping paper chaos has been shoved into bags. Someone's asleep on the couch. The food was good but now you're just tired and vaguely bloated. There's a specific stillness to Christmas afternoon that nobody talks about. Not sad exactly, but deflated. All that buildup for a morning that passes too fast. I used to fight the feeling. Now I just let it sit there. Maybe the point was never the day itself. Maybe it's the people you went quiet with when the noise finally stopped.
