The Unwrapped Present

I know things are tough this year, at least on my end of the deal,
I'm so sorry I won't be there in time to celebrate our first holiday together;
but believe me I'm trying my hardest. Mom says we'll spend Christmas
in the car, no presents for each other - which is fine by me, only I wish
that I had something to smile. A new house for her, so she could finally
live comfortably, a locket containing ash and I to show that we made it
out of this hell hole alive, ooh or maybe I could get you some new paints -

vivid ambers, brilliant scarlets, violets that scream and cobolt to complete anything.
Paints that aren't crusted together and tubes that don't fall apart at
the slightest touch, a golden brush I swear I won't touch (I'm so sorry I've ruined
so many of the ones you had already...). I wish I could get Ash a new game
or I-tunes gift cards so he won't take yours. Maybe some new drawing pads
and markers so he's not staring at electronics all day. Love, the most sad thing is,
I got you a gift back in August, just a few days after we met. I've had it boxed up
and ready to send for months, it's sitting in my lap as I write this out for you,
waiting to bring a smile across your brilliant face. Darling, this year will be unique
in ways neither of us have ever imagined, my heart aches knowing I can do nothing
more for the ones I love, and yet, there's something for you that you will never see.

An unwrapped box, a note of nothing but pure energy, and a symbol that only you
could ever fully understand in a scene that will never be seen.