I took my time getting ready, moving through the motions of a routine that felt increasingly hollow.
When I finally walked into the showroom, the air was already thick with the scent of pine and the restless energy of the holidays. Everywhere I turned, Christmas was the only language being spoken.
"Elena! Good morning!"
"Good morning Elena"
"Good morning," I replied, forcing a polite smile that didn't reach my eyes.
A small group of my coworkers huddled near the entrance, their faces bright with collective excitement.
"Elena, we're plotting," one of them said, leaning in.
"We're trying to convince the boss to close the showroom for Christmas. We need you on our side. You have to help us convince him."
"Yeah," another added, "do you have big plans? You must be doing something special."
I stared at them for a second too long, the festive noise of the office sounding like static in my ears. I didn't know what to say. I didn't have a script for this.
"No," I said simply. "I don't have any plans."
The coworker frowned, her nose crinkling in disappointment.
"Such a boring person! Elena, you're young. You should be out there hanging out with friends, making memories."
"Haha... maybe," I let out a dry, practiced laugh and slipped past them to my desk.
Safely behind my terminal, I pulled out my phone. It was a minefield of notifications—friends asking about parties, dinners, and gatherings. I ignored them all.
[ I couldn't do it anymore. The world was demanding joy, and I had none to give.]
One message stood out. It was Jennie.
"Hey,"
"Hey Jennie. What are you up to?"
"Nothing much. Some friends want to go out, but I'm torn. I'm confused about whether I should go or not."
"You should go," I typed, the irony tasting like ash in my mouth.
"Go and enjoy yourself."
I was a hypocrite, urging her to find the light while I intentionally stayed in the dark.
"Then I think I should go," Jennie replied, her mind made up.
"Talk to you later, Elena? After work?"
"Okay. Talk then."
I buried myself in my work, filing papers and checking inventory as if I could drown my thoughts in mundane tasks. But my heart felt like lead in my chest.
Why is everyone talking about Christmas?
I thought, a sudden flash of bitterness rising in my throat.
I didn't want to hear the carols. I didn't want to see the twinkling lights draped over the storefronts. What was the point of Christmas when my Santa is gone?
He was no longer here to be seen, to be touched, or to laugh. He was gone, and he had taken the magic of the season with him.
For the rest of the world, it was a time for miracles. For me, it was just a reminder of what was missing. There would be no Christmas for me;
I had already lost my Santa.