The Christmas tree sits in the corner. Lights, tinsel, ornaments hang from it's branches. Fuck why'd I promise that I'd put up a tree in my house for Gus and JR. The more I look at it the more I want to burn the mother fucker down. Just let the flames take it and this fucking house. Because Christ, the one man that I love, have ever loved won't come back to me. Won't be with me. I never realized how much I needed him. Christ I sound like a lesbian. 

I take another swig of my beer. Sometimes I wonder if I hadn't made the plea for him to go to New York and follow his dream, where we'd be. He'd probably be driving me nuts right now with all the Christmas shit. Running around last minute to find perfect gifts for the kids, stressing over every little detail of the holiday. It gives me a headache just thinking about it. But he would be here instead of on the other side of the God damn earth.

I take another drink of the alcohol and lean against the back of the chair. Sleep suddenly becomes a good idea and as my fingers relax the beer bottle crashes to the ground, but I'm too exhausted to even acknowlege it.



What? I look up trying to see what pulled me out of the comfort of sleep. Then it happens again. The door. God damn Linds. I fucking forgot she was bringing the kids over for presents and Christmas cheer. Hurfuckingray.

I roll over and stand up when something sharp pricks the bottom of my foot. Looking down I see the broken bottle of beer laying in shards on my hardwood floor. Almost like my life. Some parts better held together and others nothing more then silvery slivers.

The knocking becomes more insistent. "Fuck. I'm coming. Linds, the presents aren't going any where."

Whipping the door open, I ready myself to be impaled by the 7 year old JR. "Okay Linds..." But the person at my door stops time for a second.

"Hello."

"Well if it isn't Joanie. My God fearing, good christian mother. To what due I owe this pleasant surprise?" I say sarcastically.

"Brian." She whines. "I just came by to tell you that I'm heading to church today. I was wondering if you'd take me."

I have to laugh at that. "How the fuck did you find me, first of all? Secondly you haven't spoken to me in over seven years, what makes you think I'd ever go anywhere with you, and thirdly mother your a drunk so how in the hell did you get here?"

She clutches her bag tighter. "That's no way to speak to your mother." She says like she's actually been my mother. "I went to your old apartment and your landlord gave me this address. I'm not a drunk Brian, but I did take a taxi here."

"You took a cab here just to ask me to church. Joanie you must be getting dimentia in your old age."

"Brian, you are still my son." 

"Oh mother I haven't been your son since the day I was born. So why don't you just go home and pray for my soul like you do and I'll stay here and live my disgusting homosexual life." I bark at her and slam the door.

Not five minutes later there's another knock. "Fuck Linds that better be you." I yank open the door once more.

"Sorry, I'm not Linds." Comes a soft voice.

Suddenly it's like all my senses are knocked out of me. 

He smiles. "Well don't just stand there. Say something."

"Justin?" I rub my eyes. 

"Yeah. It's me."

I shake my head trying to get my mind to start working again. "What are you doing?"

"Winning the war."