If I Had Just One Wish

The tears stayed inside the whole cab ride to the hotel I’d got the room for from the airport, though I’d been secretly hoping I wouldn’t need it. They even stayed inside while I checked in, got my room key and tried to smile when the receptionist wished me a happy Christmas. There was nothing happy about it. I was going to be spending the day that you’re supposed to spend with your loved ones, opening presents and just spending time together on my own in a New York hotel room, crying because the person I loved so much didn’t want me.

When the tears finally did come they were unstoppable. I called for room service at around 6pm and spent hours slowly chewing through a large bowl of fries and sniffing over Christmas movies. It wasn’t fair, in the movies the guy always got his girl and they lived happily ever after and kissed under the mistletoe and were just in love. Why couldn’t I get a Christmas miracle and have Chris show up and tell me that he was sorry and he loved me more than anything?

Thoughts like that of course brought on another storm of tears and I ended up drifting off to sleep curled up under a thick pile of blankets at only 9 or so, while a real storm raged outside, lashing snow against the windows. The sound of the snow was soothing in a strange way and eventually I fell asleep, still in the clothes I’d been wearing all day with chip crumbs and salt around my mouth. Getting up had just felt like it would take much more energy than I had left.

When I woke up it took me five minutes to realise it was morning, the sky was dark with clouds and there was still a steady stream of snow hitting the wall of my hotel room. Merry Christmas indeed. I should’ve been calling my parents, wishing them a merry Christmas and apologising for not being able to make it home for Christmas; instead I stayed curled up in bed under the warm mound of blankets, thinking about what I’d give to kiss Chris one more time.

My phone rang eventually, snapping me out of my sulking and I snapped to check who it was, not surprised to see my family’s home number on the screen. They wished me a merry Christmas and said what a shame it was that I wasn’t home for Christmas and they missed me but they were glad I was okay etc and Mom spent at least ten minutes telling me all about what their plans for the day were while I tried not to groan or hang up; I just wanted to keep sulking about Chris.

After half an hour or so they finally went back to their Christmas celebrations and I lay back in bed with a sigh that was part relief and part misery; if Chris hadn’t been such a butthead we could’ve been together right now, cooking Christmas dinner and watching movies and talking and kissing, but I couldn’t help that he didn’t want me.

It was all I could do not to burst into tears again after another wave of disappointment hit me but I was distracted by a knock on the door. I rubbed my eyes and stumbled out of the too big bed, opening the door to see my Christmas wish.

“I’m sorry. You were right and I was stupid and I’m kind of in love with you so I don’t want to spend Christmas without you” Chris said in a rush and then pulled me into his arms, our noses smushing together as we kissed desperately. Everything was going to be ok.