... and when I stop talking, I hope you miss it.

Every slip up, every rant, every laughter, every moan, every fear, every speech that comes along with it.

Because someday, I'll have the urge to stop.

And when I do...

... I hope you'll miss me.

I think I've been a good girl. Even though, I'll always curse at people... and have the urge to break the rules every once in a while. I think I've been good. Santa, won't you visit me this Holiday? Take me with you.

I'll be a good little elf. I'll help you clean your sleigh, make little toys for little girls and boys, and bake cookies for those who're tired of the work. I'll be taller than the rest of the elves but that's fine, right? I can help them reach higher places, I'll give them piggy back rides when I'm not too tired, and I'll play with them.

Like I would with my sisters before.

Oh, how I miss the good old days, don't you?

When I would write letters to you before Christmas day--

--and give it to my mama for her to send it to the post office. And every Christmas, I'll get what I want. I'll thank my mum and my dad, then pray to God to tell Mr. Santa: "thank you". I'm a grateful little girl.

When I get something, I'll cherish it as long as there's reason why you gave it to me. But really, I'll keep it nonetheless. But one day, those times have passed and things have changed. Every night, I would ask God why I would cry.

Why I would feel pain on my backside. Why I would hurt inside.

And I would stare on the floor where an unmoving belt lay. I'll stare at it... long and hard. It wouldn't move. But I know it's the one. I knew it.

And when I would run away, I'll always come back. From the bitter cold, I would seek my home's warmth. But it wasn't enough. Mr. Santa... why did things go awry?

Now, I'm old and I know better... I'm still too young. Does that make sense? Because for me, it does. And I'm desperate to understand. I cry too much. Too... much. And it's not good for me anymore, Santa. No, it's not.

I'm a big girl... and I should understand.

But I don't. So I cry.

I... cry.