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  • We were in The Breakfast Club in Soho,
    Eggs Benedict, coffee, a pot of tea, peppered napkins.

    "Do you want to spend Christmas with me?"

    Yes, I thought that was what he said. What Z said, that Zuckerberg Welsh chap said.
    My mind replayed it. Yes. That was definitely what he said.

    This was a super appreciative gesture.
    After being disowned, dislodged, unconnected, cut off, and traumatised by my "family." (There had been no words spoken between us since that November night).
    Christmas for me was heading towards midnight mass, first 8am mass, Family mass, afternoon blessings etc; just so I had somewhere to go, people to see and people who would give me the love and heart that comes hand in hand with Christmas memories.

    Zuckerberg had a similarly complicated family situation too, so having Christmas together was a natural decision.
    It just seemed to fit. Made sense.
    My first Christmas in my 24 years that was not going to be spent with the family. I could actually choose what I wanted to do.
    He understood, this was the same for him. Flying free.

    Christmas eve we had been invited to one of my best friend's house for a dinner party.
    Z's turn to be nervous. No need, of course.
    The Victorian lounge brimming with bright faces, clinking glasses,
    smiles, laughs,
    unorthodox hand made sushi platters, (my friend an excellent chef)
    and anecdotes a plenty.

    We drank prosecco in bed on Christmas morning.
    We watched Love Actually.
    I made him wear a classically awful festive jumper. Which he did. I smiled.
    We swapped presents; perfume, a necklace with a diamond, understated and creative. A tiny charm. I unwrapped these holding my breath.
    He unwrapped two mugs that I had personalized with lines from our first few dates. Our lines.
    And book from that wonderful show with Stephen Fry, which he loves.
    And a tiny leather journal with a hand written list of all the things we talk about doing but never actually do.
    We drank red wine.

    We ate our Christmas dinner at 10pm.
    Because that was the time we chose.
    We watched Him & Her. We joked we are like Becky and Steve. Living in our own world.
    Not needing anyone.
    We drank red wine.
    We talked.
    We laughed.
    We drank red wine.
    Because this was our Christmas.
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