Euphoria Lost

December the 25th is supposed to be a day of happiness and joy. When I was a kid, it always was. I would spend the entire month of December looking forward to Christmas day, and it would always be as happy as I'd like it to be. But in the past five or so years, each Christmas has been less exciting than the last. Maybe its because five years ago I had two more grandparents than I do today, or because of my decreasing lack of desire for novel plastic toys, but still, I can't help wondering, "is just a part of growing up that nobody told me about?"

Ten years ago, I would be happy at the mere sight of the Christmas tree, but today, all it symbolizes to me is how much of a disappointment this Christmas season has been.

If its the most wonderful time of the year, then why don't I feel remotely wonderful?