Author's Note: This is kind of spoilery...well, yeah, it is spoilery!! lol! It really has nothing to do with Christmas...don't be put off by the title and think I've gone mad posting Christmas fic at the beginning of October!! Please let me know what you think, as always! Thanks! :)
Jo xx

Christmas Cards

I immediately recognise the writing on the envelope as being his, and smile to myself slightly. This is the only contact I ever have with John Carter, a Christmas card once a year. I pull the card out of the envelope, and smile at the picture of a snowman on the front. A photo slips out, and I pick it up. The smiling faces of his children look out at me, and I can't help sighing. In fact, I can't help crying.

Every year there's a picture of the children, and every year I can't help but wonder what it would have been like if they were mine. There's not a day goes by when I don't think we could have had something more, we could have been sending out Christmas cards with pictures of our kids inside. We came so close, and yet we were so far too.

It's strange how things go. I used to think our relationship was something that would last forever, that we could make it through everything. But then I guess that maybe I didn't understand him properly. I thought I understood him, but perhaps it was all an illusion. John Carter is a very complex man, maybe I just didn't read into him enough, didn't dive into his heart and find out what it was he really wanted. Or maybe I just wasn't good enough for him.

And I guess that's probably the most likely explanation. After all, he was the one who ended it with me. Even if he'd wanted it to last, I don't think it would have. It's a long way between Chicago and Africa. I didn't want him to go back. I begged and pleaded with him. I didn't know what I'd do without him. "John, I don't want you to go!" I shouted at him, crying. But he didn't even look back at me. He just walked away. I guess that was when I realised it was the end, when he went back. Before he'd even written to me, before he'd explained how he felt. No matter what we felt about each other, it was over.

Our feelings for each other are still a bit of a mystery to me. Was I in love with him? Was he in love with me? I used to think he was in love with me. Maybe I was fooling myself, or maybe he did love me once. I guess I'll never know. My feelings, I'm not really sure about either. I did love him, I think. I told myself I did. Not that I ever told him. Maybe that was the problem. Instead of crying "I don't want you to go" I should have cried "I love you". But it's too late to change that now. Every day I think about him, so maybe I'm still in love with him. I often wonder whether he thinks about me too, other than to write the obligatory Christmas card. I very much doubt he thinks of me, though: he's with her on the other side of the world, with their perfect little family.

I think about her quite a lot too. I wonder what she's like. Is she pretty? Does she have a nice family? Does she have a great personality? I hope so, because he deserves all those things. Most of all, I wonder what sort of a mother she is to their children. I never imagined myself as a mother, but in my more depressive moments I imagine her abandoning her children, leaving them alone to starve, and me having to swoop in and save them. But looking at the picture again, I realise how happy they are. You can't make a six year old and a four year old put on big happy grins like that if they don't mean it.

The other thing I often wonder is why they continue to send me Christmas cards. I would think that he'd want to get on with his life, forget about the stupid old girlfriend who got in the way of his life for a while. But for some reason every year, without fail, a card turns up. Sometimes I think it's sweet, that maybe he does still care about me, at least a little. Or maybe he's trying to soften the blow, because he feels guilty about the fact that he left me after everything we had and ended up marrying someone else. When I'm feeling particularly bitchy, I wonder if it's her idea, if she wants to rub salt into the wound so to speak.

I look back at the card once more, and smile sadly. It's no use reminiscing about it now. Everything's done, it's in the past. After staring at the picture for a moment longer I open the card and read the message inside.

Dear Debbie,
Happy Christmas!
Love from,
John, Abby, Lorna and Patrick Carter

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