And I don’t know if it was the wine or the nasty feeling that wouldn’t let me go, but something pushed me to snap a photo of the tree and send it to Aaron with a smiley face emoji.

See? I’m a mess.

He texted me back less than thirty seconds later telling me it was beautiful. Something sparked in my chest at the sight of his name on my phone, but as much as I wanted to, I forced myself not to text him anything else. This was supposed to be a clean break, and my text had only been a small lapse in judgment.

And now here I am, days later and still very much hung up on this stupid tree from this stupid farm that this stupid man gave me.

At least I did what I was supposed to do. Aaron is free of me. I’ll survive this silly… What even is this? An infatuation? It feels stupid, but I guess it is what I’m feeling.

It’s probably due to the physical contact we shared over the weeks. I’m not used to being so physically close to young, extremely attractive men, and I guess my inexperienced brain clung to it. It’s only a case of sexual frustration that’s making me so obsessed with him.

It’ll go away eventually. I can only hope.

Behind me, someone whines. I spin to find May’s head leaned on the armrest, eyes sad.

“What’s up?” I ask my dog. “You miss him too?”

Surely not. She hasn’t seen him enough for that. She’s probably just hungry for dinner, and I’m projecting my thoughts onto her.

“Come on, let’s eat,” I tell her as I lift her off the couch and carry her to the kitchen. As if she heard the words, Molly also comes running from my bedroom, her large tongue hanging out of her mouth.

“Jesus, all right,” I say with a chuckle as she starts wagging her tail so hard, the one picture of my mother I have in here almost falls off the small buffet.

After putting food in their respective bowls—and watching them eat like one little and one big hyena—I open the fridge and pick up the single portion of turkey and stuffing I bought from the grocery store. I’m the worst cook I know, so no way was I attempting to make a Christmas dinner, especially only for myself.