Disclaimer: I do not own the Heartland Series, and I do not own the song "Christmases When You Were Mine", because it belongs to Taylor Swift.
Christmases When You Were Mine:
The shiny red and green mistletoe seemed to mock Amy from across the room.
She tried not to look at it, but it seemed like everything in the room was pulling magnetically towards it, and her eyes were no exception.
Whose stupid idea had it been to put small plants over doorways, and make people kiss each other when they stepped under them? Who decided that a plant should dictate two people's actions? It seemed stupid to Amy but many people accepted it. Hormone entrenched teenagers seemed to thrive on it.
But Amy was no longer a teenager. She was twenty years old, and though many people would say that that is very much a teenager, Amy knew that she was more mature than the average teenager. She had been through so much more than a normal twenty year old. She knew responsibility.
So why did she feel this way?
Why was she letting a small plant alter her emotions so easily?
Amy stood up to go into the kitchen and find something to drink. Or at least that was what she told herself she was doing. It was much more possible that she was trying to avoid the sight of a red and green garland hanging over the opposite door frame.
As she walked into the kitchen she saw that one of her good college friends, and one romantic interest Will was leaning against the sink with a glass of ginger-ale in his hand. His face lit up with a smile when he saw her. Amy didn't feel that way about Will anymore, but she had come to find out that Will didn't change his mind very often and his mind was set on Amy.
"Hey, Amy," He smiled, "You want something to drink?"
"No… thanks, Will." Of course she had come in to get something to drink but the sight of Will had made her lose any desire for it that she had had.
"You doing okay?" he said, pushing a strand of his reddish hair away from his face. He was so nice. Amy wished at that moment that she could love him. He would be so easy to love. He was so uncomplicated.
"I just need to… get some air," she muttered, and turned away from him and headed out the rear door without looking back. Will was nice and she didn't want to see his face, because she knew that even thought she didn't like him it would hurt to hurt him. It would hurt like seeing someone hurt a harmless puppy dog. You didn't love it… but you don't hurt puppy dogs.
She sat down on the cold step and felt the wet snow soaking through the seat of her pants.
The land was so flat here – not at all like at home where the beautiful green trees sprawled every which way.
Home.
Her stomach flopped as she thought of it. She didn't like to think of home too often, because it felt so good to think of it, but the goodness of the thoughts didn't balance out the horror of the aftermath.
She stood up and walked over to a pile of snow and began to mold it into a snowball. She didn't know why, because she was never going to throw it at anyone, but at least it distracted her from thoughts of… that place.
Amy had been standing that way out in the clearing for a couple minutes with the globe of melted snow in her frozen fingers when her cell phone started to buzz in the pocket of her white fleece.
She looked down at the caller ID and saw that it was her Grandfather.
"Hey," She said, pressing the talk button, and trying to make her voice sound strong. Strong was what he expected her to be.
"Hey sweetheart," He said happily. She could tell he was happy. She resented him for it, and then resented herself for resenting him.
"How are you doing?" she asked, just trying to make conversation.
The conversation went on for a while but she didn't say the one name that she wanted to.
"How is T," she started to say once, but cut herself off before she could get out his entire name. If memories of home hurt, then memories of him cut her soul open.
She blundered through the rest of the conversation, but couldn't seem to find a safe place to dwell.
Home, the one place that was supposed to be always safe, did not seem safe anymore.
He… the one person who she'd always thought she would never give up on... he was the ultimate unmentionable. He was dangerous to think of.
She wondered if he was thinking of her, and at that moment the memory of his beautiful green eyes and dark hair flashed into her mind.
"I have to go Grandpa," she snapped a little too forcefully, "Love you."
The conversation ended, but the memory of him did not faced away and it seemed to burn like a searing hot coal into her heart.
Please take down the mistletoe
Cause I don't wanna think about
that right now
Cause everything I want is miles away
In a snow
covered little town
My grandpa's in the kitchen, worrying about
me
Season's greetings, hope you're well
Well I'm doing
alright
If you were wondering
Lately I can never tell
Amy trudged back inside the house to sit in her corner of the Christmas party. A few people tried to talk to her, but she was so noncommittal and boring that they stopped trying and let her sit there alone as it seemed she wished to do. It didn't hurt, or come to her mind most of the time, but Christmas always seemed to be a particularly painful time for her.
As she watched the couples with hands wrapped around each other and friends laughing and talking through old memories she was hit with the realization that this was not supposed to be a lonely time.
This was supposed to be the best time of the year, the one month where actually felt generous.
But not this year.
This year it was lonely.
Because from now on every Christmas she would remember back to the Christmases when he was hers.
I know this shouldn't be a lonely time I've been doing fine without
you, really But
for me it's just a lonely time
But there were
Christmases when you were mine
Up until the nights got cold
And everybody's here,
except you, baby
Seems like everyone's got someone to hold
Cause there were Christmases when
you were mine
Eventually Amy got sick and tired of seeing all the people cuddling with each other, and having such a great time when she was in such turmoil that she decided to leave.
As she was standing up to go she was met at the door by Will.
"Are you going?" He asked her, looking concerned. She knew she had hurt him earlier and she felt bad about it. Not bad enough to stay, but still…
"Yeah," she nodded, running a hand through her light brown hair.
"You don't want me to come with you." He said, and she knew that it was a statement and not a question.
"Not tonight, Will. I'm… I'm tired," she told him, and she was.
"I understand," he said, and leaned over to give him a hug. She felt bad that she would never feel for him what he so obviously felt for her.
"Merry Christmas," he called as she walked out into the snow and back towards her dorm.
"Merry Christmas," she echoed softly, but that was all it was – an echo.
Those words would just be something that she would say this year, but they would never be true.
She walked farther and farther away from him, glad that she could now be her sad self.
As she walked down the campus sidewalk toward her dorm she saw students in their rooms decorating miniature Christmas trees and opening presents.
He had always given his mother a sweater.
She had always helped him decorate his tree.
She wondered if he noticed that there was one less pair of hands this year.
She wondered if he remembered Christmases when she didn't have to wonder.
Merry Christmas everybody I know this
shouldn't be a lonely time You were mine
That'll have to be something I just
say this year
I'll bet you got your mom another sweater
And
were your cousins late again
When you were putting up the lights
this year
Did you notice one less pair of hands
But there were Christmases when I
didn't wonder how you are tonight
Cause there were Christmases
when you were mine