About this “Last Christmas” song of yours.

Every single year — that is, every day from the day after Halloween through Christmas Day — I hear you on the radio. (What can I say? You’re very popular on my local “variety” station, which, overnight, just as kids are finishing their trick-or-treating, magically reformats into a 24-7 Christmastime soundtrack, dedicated to establishing itself as the go-to Christmas channel in the ears of its listeners, and, perhaps more importantly — because, again, this is Christmas we’re talking about — its sponsors.)

Anyway, every single year, I hear you singing how last Christmas, you gave someone your heart, but how that the very next day, that person you so deeply confided in, that person you so trusted, that person you wanted with all your heart to want you with all their heart — that person gave it away.

And every single year, you sing how this year, you’ll give it to someone special. But really, George Michael, who are you kidding? You say “this year” every year.

When will you learn your lesson? When will you learn to live in the moment, George Michael?

Interestingly, you never say who that “someone” is, but I understand — you don’t want to violate their trust. But you know what, George Michael? By betraying you, they already violated yours.

They say it’s drugs that landed you in therapy. But let’s be honest here, George Michael. Drugs are only the tip of the iceberg. It’s really about trust.

Every single year, you’re always addressing your enabler: as the story goes,

“Last Christmas, I gave you my heart, but the very next day, you gave it away.”

George Michael, you need to learn to walk away from those people who hurt you. It’s okay to be hurt. It’s not okay to dwell on the person who hurt you.

I want to help you, George Michael. But there are two kinds of people in this world: those you can help, and those you can’t. I hope that the Christmas spirit finds you, that it turns you into the kind of person that can be helped, just like the Christmas spirit turns my local variety music station into the antithesis of a variety music station.

I wish you a Merry Christmas, George Michael. Not next year. This year.

With love,

Ben

(You don’t know me, so I don’t know why I’m signing my name, but maybe you should. Maybe you should start getting to know the people who want to help you.)