Dinner came along, and first on the list of beloved relatives were my father’s loud sister and her three teenage children, all very unhappy to be there, thinking about all the cool teenage things they could’ve been doing instead of having Christmas Eve dinner. Still, I was considered an adult among them for years, and this time especially, the pressure was on me.

They needed to know everything about my plans for the future. When I was getting married, if I’d found a man to settle with, what I wanted from my life, and so on, and so forth. I’d always had the same answer – not yet, but as they grew increasingly annoyed with my lack of decisiveness, and as I got older, the answer held less and less water.

And that night was no different, as the questions started ramping up, and despite my parents’ best attempts to shield me from them, knowing my condition and what I’d been through, the eldest of the teens got in on the act, in jest more than in anything else, and I couldn’t help it. I screamed “NO!” and leapt up from the dinner table, storming up to my room, only wanting quiet.

I didn’t get any sort of silence for very long, as my mum quickly followed me into my room to find me face down on my bed, not quite sobbing, but not far away either. “Jordan, what was that?”

“I’m overstimulated,” I said. “You know I have the same problem with just people’s emotions. Words are even worse, apparently.”

“You can’t leave the dinner table like that, especially not at Christmas Eve, love,” she said. “Please, come back.”

“Can I have a moment?” I said. “I’ll be right there.”

“Of course,” she said. “I’ll find an excuse for you.”

“Thanks,” I said, and she showed herself out of the room.

How did I get triggered like that? Was it down to my aunt, or me? Something for Colin, or any psychiatrist he might recommend, to consider. I came back down the stairs, hanging my head low, and apologised to everyone at the table for storming away.

“Don’t worry about it, but maybe we should put you with the kids next time then?” my aunt said, and immediately laughed at her own joke.

“I’m good, thank you,” I said.

“Look at her, all proper. Didn’t forget your roots, did you?” she said, not missing the opportunity to poke me some more.

“’Course not. Just force of habit, really,” I said.

“Yeah, can’t be easy down there,” she said. “I wouldn’t survive, really. Couldn’t ever leave the North behind.”

“It’s hard, let me tell you that,” I said. “I’d love if the North had work, like it did fifty years ago, and if I could make my living up here. But I can’t, and the bloody Southerners took it all.”

“And wouldn’t we all! I’ll toast to that, because we have to go,” she said, downing her third glass of wine, before ushering her kids out of the door, leaving us with a messy kitchen and a quiet house.

“Well, we got that over with,” mum said, provoking a smile from both me and dad.

“She is my sister, but I can’t say I disagree with the tone,” he said. “Jordan, I know you’ve had a gremlin there. Won’t you take some time to yourself until later tonight?”

“What about the house?” mum said.

“I’ll do the house,” he said. “Jordan needs a break.”

“Oh, alright, you,” she said, feigning annoyance as she leaned in to kiss him.

They almost got too excited before they noticed I was still there. “Well? Get lost,” dad said.

I went back up the stairs and immediately fell asleep, perhaps in reaction to the long day, and the quiet reminder from my subconscious that it was still there, still watching me, still unhappy about the way everything was going.

Again, I was with Aaron, but instead of on our own customary grassy hill, we were next to a fire so warm that we found difficulty staying in our clothes. He was warm, he fit me perfectly, but above all, he was mine. Next holiday, if he was real, he would be mine, and we would really be cuddling naked by the fire.

“I miss you, Jordan,” he said as I nuzzled into him. “I need you.”

“I need you too, Aaron,” I said.

Just as he started caressing my back, the fire popped, and I was suddenly back in my bed, alone, and fully clothed. That explains the sweltering heat, I thought.

“Would you care to join us downstairs?” mum said from my room’s door.

“Be right there,” I said. I looked up at the clock on my wall and saw it was showing ten minutes past midnight.

It was Christmas.

I took a moment to collect myself, trying to comprehend what I’d remembered of my dream. No sentences from Aaron, just his warm presence, which my mind probably decided to dream about given that I’d passed out in my clothes. It was strange to dream about anything other than that grassy hill, but I wasn’t exactly complaining.

Sleeping in my clothes was also useful in that I didn’t have to get dressed for the midnight socialisation downstairs. Just a quick pit-stop in the bathroom to freshen up, and downstairs I went, to be met with both of them completely elated.

“We’ve missed you,” mum said. “Welcome back to life.”

I went in to hug her, and gave her a warm hug that only a child can give their mother. “I missed you too, mum.”

Dad stepped in. “I know you’ve always loved music, I know life is very stressful for you, and I know you’ve just bought a guitar for some inane reason. Music is as much a part of you as we are. I also know that you have a problem with overstimulation, and music is one way to fix that. Here, these are for you. You need them,” he said, and handed me a gift-wrapped box.

I opened the wrapping to see what was inside, and found something beyond anything I ever could’ve imagined. A set of high-tech headphones, wireless and all. “Dad? How on Earth did you afford these?”

“Worked overtime. Still was a stretch,” he said.

“Why?” I said. “Why go to such expenses for me? I am 26, you know.”

“Because I love you. And I wanted you to have something to truly insulate yourself from the world,” he said. “Let me spend my money the way I want it.”

“Thank you so much, dad,” I said. “You’re making me feel bad now.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” mum said. “You’re the pride and joy of our lives. Just being able to say that you’re our daughter does us proud, and is worth more than any possession we could ever have. Thank you for being our daughter, Jordan.”

“Me? With a sick brain, regular operations, infrequent calls and constant bitching?” I said. “How am I your pride and joy?”

“You’re still here,” mum said. “Despite all of that, you’re still here. We raised a reasonable human against all odds, and a fighter. You mean more than you could imagine, you know that?”

“I- I don’t know what to say,” I said.

“Words are meaningless, love. The important thing is that you’re here, and that you love us,” dad said. “Thank you from me as well.”

“I love you both,” I said.

They were my family. Nobody, not even my future husband, or my own unlikely children, could ever love me more than they do. Aaron wasn’t what I was missing. I wasn’t missing any form of love, because I had it all under my nose. All my life, through thick and thin, I’d had the unconditional love of my parents given to me, and I couldn’t believe it took me 26 years to fully appreciate it.