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The tree is up.

Just a lit tree. No ornaments. Hallmark decorations. Christmas star. Ribbon. Or cheap tinsel. Who likes tinsel?

Just a faux tree in the corner of my living room. Blinding me with its mini lights.

I’m not ready to call it a night. And unplug the tree. But it’s past 1 a.m.

So, I’ll go to bed. Close my eyes. And stop the churning wheel. The noise in my brain. The “yes, I can,” to “no, you can’t,” switch in an instant.

The doubts? They creep. They crawl. And worst of all?

I think I lost my star.

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