War Is Over, if You Want It.

No, this isn't going to be another one of my political rants. I'm not really in that kind of mood. Right now, I'm just pensive. I'm counting down all the little details in my mind that make me who I am. I'm recalling this war I've fought over and over and yet haven't had the heart to win. I'm still not sure if I do.
Today was the day we'd pick a tree and decorate it. Today was the day we'd string up the lights outside and brighten up the view. Today was the day I'd receive a letter from my uncle; my uncle on my real dad's side. He sent a check with the note as a birthday gift.
He's been doing this kind of thing in all the time he's known me and cared. Every Christmas, every birthday; my brother and I would get something in the mail. He didn't stop after my mother divorced his brother. There was no "brotherly taking sides" here. He persisted even when he realized that my dad hadn't made any effort to create a relationship with his "beloved" family. For some reason, it never struck me until this afternoon that maybe he still wants to know me.
Part of me is aching to talk to my uncle about my father; what he's been up to, if he's healthy. But I think that if I wait until I'm strong enough to deal with any type of goddamn response, it'd be too late. I don't know. Then closure wouldn't be an option, ever. And so I still wait, because right now is the wrong time. Something is holding a a knife to my back that says it will never be the right time. That I'll never get over it.
That's the war I just can't let go of. I can't end the fucking war.
And it's not as if I think about it constantly, because I don't. It's actually something that rarely ever crosses my mind; it's one of those things that only come up if my eyes glance at a reminder, or my mind wanders.
And as scarcely as I dwell on it (I'm getting really good at this whole, 'ignorance is bliss' thing), it doesn't make it small. It's terrifyingly huge. The pain has faded away. It took me two years to put it somewhat behind me, and still, on occasion, I'll feel that same pain.
I'm scared that I'll have to feel that again. I like being able to explain the situation without having to feel it directly. It's like I'm talking about somebody else. That disconnection---that numbness---makes it feel okay. I don't want that numbness to turn into yet another heartbreak.
I'm not pessimistic. I have a happy outlook on life. I see things through a rose colored glass, as they say. I question nearly everything but I don't doubt people in general. I absolutely love my life. I love myself. I love all the little things that make me this pixie I am today.
Hanging up beautiful ornaments, both old and new; the old seems ancient. The old ones are the same ones we brought from my first home during the move. It's insane how such little pieces of glass, or metal, or plastic, can bring so much to memory.
Nothing's the same. Nothing's ever the same.
I heard Sarah Maclaughlin's stunning soprano voice belt out the words to Happy Xmas, originally by John Lennon:
"WAR IS OVER, IF YOU WANT IT."

I think I want it.