I enjoy those realizations one has when they go home for the holidays.
Those moments when you are 31 years old and sharing a room with a 4 yr old. When all your stuff is in the laundry room because 4 yr old parents and all their stuff join you in the already small room. And you think about how unloved you feel because you had to make 4 trips out to unload your car (even though you asked multiple times for help) but siblings with spouses and kids only did 1 or 2.
And you try and trace back those moments as to why your relationship with your father is so strained. And then you have this awkwardly awesome moment of clarity where you realize your desire to get married has only a small portion to do with your own personal life but tons more to do with family holidays and wanting to get priority in sleeping arrangements. And wanting to avoid the awkward conversation with family members about getting out there and meeting someone.
Now I get why I hate being single during the holidays.
