I so want to love this time of year

I really, really love holidays.  I love family get-togethers.  I love holiday desserts.  I love Christmas trees and stockings and presents and wrapping paper.  I love (most) Christmas carols.  I love reindeer and elves and snowmen.  I love hot chocolate and candy canes.

But I hate Christmas.

Without fail, I spend weeks leading up to the holiday wondering where it will be spent.  Who will take pity on me and invite me to spend it with them?  Will anybody buy me a gift?

You see, when I was a kid, we had Christmas.  But when I was 14, my parents divorced.  My mom and brother and sister all somehow became Jehovah's Witnesses.  JWs do not celebrate Christmas.  But I am not a JW and I do celebrate Christmas.  At least I try.  When everyone else I know is planning their migrations home, I'm trying to figure out if any of my extended family is bothering to get together this year.  When everyone else gives their parents their wish lists, I can only dream of the things I would ask for.  I haven't received a notable gift in 11 years.  I'm lucky if I make it out of December with more than a picture frame or bottle of shower gel from a well-meaning cousin. 

The traditions I grew up with and loved are long gone.  The only tradition I have now for Christmas is crying.