The Story Behind My Song 'Flicker of December'
- Seth Metoyer
- 2 days ago
- 4 min read
In the winter of 2003, I learned what it feels like to have Christmas arrive without you.
I was going through a rough patch, living with a roommate in Tennessee, trying to navigate a version of adulthood I never wanted to experience. December rolled in with its usual glow, but I felt detached from all of it. The lights in town looked beautiful, sure, but inside, everything felt dim and slightly out of reach.
I ended up flying to Montana that Christmas to see my family. I hoped the old traditions would ground me, maybe even pull me out of the emotional undertow I’d been living in. But it didn’t feel the same as when I was younger. The snow was still perfect. The mountains still enormous. The house still warm. But the kid I used to be, the one who felt Christmas like a spark in the chest, he wasn’t there with me anymore.
Out of all that quiet ache, I started writing what would eventually become Flicker of December.
Some songs arrive fast. This one didn’t. This one waited.
A Song That Had to Wait Twenty Years
I wrote most of the early lyrics on that Montana trip, and I started sketching the main musical themes when I got back to Tennessee. When I moved to Connecticut the next year, the song followed me like a shadow… but I couldn’t finish it. I wasn’t ready. The emotions were too raw, too foggy. And honestly, I didn’t have the production tools or even the perspective yet to bring it to life the right way.
So the song stayed in the digital drawer for twenty years.
Some creations demand time. They want you to age a little, scar a little, grow a little.Only then do they let you come back.
Why December’s Tend to Cut Deep
As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized how many people struggle during the holidays. Some because of grief. Some because of loneliness. Some because their lives don’t look like the glowing Hallmark scenes we’re all raised on. Some just have to do with mental health issues.
December has a way of amplifying whatever you’re already carrying.
And that’s exactly where Flicker of December came from. It’s a song about longing for that spark we used to feel before life got complicated. The lyrics reflect that pretty clearly:
The lights don’t glow the way they used to Just flashes on a dying string Another year, another fracture Carved beneath familiar skin…It’s not a “Christmas song,” but it’s definitely a December one.
Finding New Traditions, New Light
I’m in a completely different place now. Shannon and I have been together for twenty years, and we’ve built our own traditions — our own quiet rituals, inside jokes, late-night movies, nightly sleepovers, and small comforts that mean more than any perfect postcard holiday ever could.
But here’s the strange part about getting older: You still try to find that spark from childhood. You still chase that flicker.
Some years it shows up. Some years it doesn’t.
I don’t think that makes us broken; I think it makes us human.
That’s probably why movies like A Christmas Carol still resonate so strongly. The message is eternal. Sometimes we forget the point of the season. Other times we just need permission to admit we’re struggling. And sometimes the kindest thing we can do is give ourselves a little room to breathe.
Focusing on the positive doesn’t erase the hard stuff, but it keeps that small ember from going out.
Finishing the Song in 2025
When I finally came back to Flicker of December this year, everything clicked into place. The emotion had matured. The production tools had evolved. And I finally had the clarity to finish what younger-me started.
It didn’t feel like revisiting an old wound. It felt like closing a loop. It felt like honoring the person I was back then… without dragging him into the present.
The lyrics land differently now:
Just a prayer in the dark For another magical season That flicker inside my heart…
The older I get, the more I realize we don’t need a bonfire. We just need a spark.
Keep your eyes peeled for the song to release on digital and streaming sites. I’ll also be releasing a music video.
If December Feels Heavy for You Too
If the holidays tend to get to much for you to handle, I hope this song reaches you gently. I hope it feels like someone sitting next to you in the quiet, not trying to fix anything… just acknowledging the weight and keeping you company.
And if you’re struggling right now, really struggling, please reach out to someone you trust. Let someone know. You matter. One day at a time. One hour if you have to.
Below are some resources if you need them. There’s no shame in using any of them.
Suicide & Crisis Lifeline (United States)
Dial 988
Crisis Text Line
Text HOME to 741741
International Suicide Hotlines
NAMI HelpLine
1-800-950-NAMIhttps://www.nami.org/help
Originally posted on my Substack at Fragments and Frequencies.
Seth Metoyer is a writer, artist, musician, and audio engineer exploring theology, metaphysics, music, and modern creative tools. With 25+ years in music and film, he writes for outlets like Heaven’s Metal Magazine and runs the independent label Broken Curfew Records. His work lives in the tension between faith, doubt, tradition, and the questions most people avoid asking.
Comments