I really need to vent.

Thanksgiving is coming up. It's my least favorite holiday, full of family-strife, to say the least, and bad memories for everyone. My birth father was killed on Thanksgiving, long before I can actually remember him. Now that I'm no longer on speaking terms with the rest of my family for reasons far more involved to be able to discuss at the moment, I don't really have anywhere to go for the "holiday." Since my grandmother's death in '99, Thanksgiving has been a bust, anyway, so it's not like that matters.

But I miss being around people on Thanksgiving. I miss the sharing, the talking, the laughing, watching the parade as my grandmother puttered around the kitchen and the girls worked washing pots and setting the table while the boys did whatever it was they did in the living room. Sure, it sounds sexists, I suppose, but there is a lot to be said for being able to bond with living people across the generations, and I miss that. A lot.

So...last Thanksgiving, I spent at the neighbor's house, having a very small gathering with other displaced souls. The year before that, I stayed home and watched the parade and slept the day away. The year before that, I think I went home. If memory serves, we went to a restaurant (I think). I seem to remember not being happy that we were at a restaurant for Thanksgiving. The point of the holiday isn't the food. The point of the holiday is to be around people you love, or at the very least, get along with on a tolerable basis.

The year before that (that's three Thanksgivings ago, for those keeping score), Tom and I went to my parents for the day. It was actually ok, as far as that goes, and we didn't stay too long, opting to do the dishes (I always do the dishes. It's my thing.) and leave to attend a friend's get-together in our home town. Since that year, Tom has been deployed every Thanksgiving since. That's the last two Thanksgivings apart. Christmas we've had together, but barely. This past one was a blur for him, as the military thought it appropriate to send him to school on another coast ten days after he returned from another country, but at least we were able to see one another.

So Thanksgiving. I don't want to spend it alone this year. It's depressing, y'know? And it just holds too many bad memories of late, something I want to change. I'm debating on flying to be with Tom over the holiday, since my schedule is more flexible than his and he will need to do school stuffs, but there's a problem. He's as reclusive as I am at times, especially when things get difficult. This week has seen the deaths of two people we know, though I'm not sure if he knows about both of them. There's school to contend with, as he's in a very difficult program and placing a lot of pressure on himself.

And when he decides to isolate himself, he does so in full force. No phone calls, no email, nada. If we were only friends, it wouldn't be so difficult. Having dated for over three years, it's becoming habitual. I've learned that it's him, not me, and I let him have his space.

But when airline tickets are going up $120 for a plane ticket overnight, I need an answer. It's a simple yes or no, this is a good time or it's not. I'll understand; despite the stereotype that when women say they understand and don't mean it, I actually do mean it. I've been there. I'll understand.

But no answer? At all? It's annoying as hell.

And on the other side, it's really getting on my nerves that I'm letting him be the one to dictate when we see one another. I'm annoyed that I'm beginning to feel as if I'm taking up too much of his time when we've seen one another for a grand total of 22 days since January, and those were not consecutively.

I'm angry that Michelle's mom killed herself. I'm angry that Tonto died this morning, even though I didn't know him personally. I'm pissed off that Duece killed himself and left two daughters and a wife. I'm pissed that I'm in a school program where we're left to learn like robots with no external emotions or independent thought. I'm pissed that the moaners and bemoaners are the ones garnering all the praise, and I'm really freakin' disappointed that the world is run by money. It's an arbitrarily assigned system of value.

I feel as if this is the ranting of a goth teenager with self-esteem problems instead of the venting of a grown woman. Such is life.

But what do I do? I get up, do homework, clean a room a day, read, pretend everything is great while keeping my mouth shut, and try to pretend it doesn't matter. I've willingly placed myself in this situation, so I'll of course go on. And wait for the phone call that will not come.

I'll try to be a better person while convincing myself I'm not a terrible person to begin with. And continue to watch airline ticket prices rise and fall.