the magic of the night

I don’t believe in Christmas. The mystery has the night of the New Year. It’s magic. To somebody it’s just a change of numbers or another excuse to get drunk and have fun, but to me it’s more than that. The way you meet it, the way you’ll spend it. I have always wanted to believe in miracles and it’s this crucial night when they are supposed to happen. Years change, go by and disappear. Soon I’ll have nothing to believe in. I want this night to be special, but every time I fail. The hope that this time it will be different but everything repeats. It is killing me. Well, I shouldn’t complain.