SOON Online Magazine

Stories

Something Wonderful

By Shanidar Cabaraban

I've always believed that "every year, comes the promise that something wonderful will happen to me". That particular line was from a book I read years ago. I've forgotten the author and the title of the book, but strangely, not those words clearly imprinted in my head, glaring like neon lights in some club. That time of year - where something wonderful is bound to happen is Christmas. That time of year-where something wonderful is bound to happen but it never quite does-is Christmas. You wait. And wait. And WAIT. And then you realize, that no amount of waiting isn't going to make it happen, because there is no such thing as 'Something Wonderful'.. No such thing as Christmas. It's all one big fat lie, conjured by businessmen to increase sales. It's a fantasy for kids to get more expensive toys like 'Playstation' and 'Tamiya', encouraging us to bow down to their whims and caprices. More importantly, it's a convenient excuse for adults to 'pig out' and eat to their hearts content. Nothing more than that. At least to me, Christmas will never amount to anything but an ordinary day made extra ordinary by commerce. I stopped believing in Christmas this year. See, there seemed to be no reason to believe in anything anymore. Ever since I found out that the man I've loved, since forever will tie the knot to someone else at Christmas. This Christmas. To someone else. Since then, Christmas has lost its appeal. Which is sad because I've always been a big raving fan of Christmas, celebrating it with gusto and enthusiasm, ever since I was a kid. I used to go to dawn masses too. Wouldn't even dream of missing one dawn Mass for fear that my personal petition would not come true. Everybody knows that if you go for nine straight dawn Masses, whatever you wished for would come true. I went for three successive years, no misses, no complaints. My grandmother used to say that the key to making your wishes come true was not to ask for anything for yourself. No selfish wishes she'd say. But I figured, I wasn't asking something for myself entirely. My parents have been hounding me to give them a grand son. So, actually, its not selfish at all. Around 4:15 am, after a five-hour sleep, my alarm would make this awful sound. A cue for me to drag myself out of bed, get dressed and prepare to leave. I would go around 4:45, take a long walk down our dark deserted street, crawling with rabid howling dogs, commute to church, all the while cursing the cold and wishing I wouldn't be late. After an hour, I'd come home, take a bath, and report for an eight-hour job, plus another two hours overtime. Nine days, I did this. Every year. For three years. Without fail. Ah, the things we do for love.... Every year, I always say the same prayer. The same pathetic stupid prayer. "Dear Lord, please, please let him love me. I promise I'll be good. I promise I won't ask for anything. Just please let him see me as something more than his friend." Year after year, I ask for the same thing, only to come home, without anything. I don't complain because I thought, it simply wasn't the time for us. I thought that I wasn't good enough so I didn't get my wish. I thought that maybe, come this year, things will change. Damn right it did, but not on my favor. I remember the day he told me that he was going to get married to her.. to THAT woman. I remember what I wore and where we were and what time it was and what I was drinking. I remember telling myself not to lose it, not to cry. I remember the sound of my heart breaking into tiny shattered pieces. I remember all I did was stare, not saying anything. I remember it rained. What was I supposed to say, anyway? You can't marry her? I waited for you for so long? I thought there was an us, maybe not now but someday? I can love you for the both of us? You'll learn to love me? In the end, I never did say anything. I couldn't say anything. I never wore that blue blouse and dark jeans anymore. I don't go that café anymore. Nor do I like 7:38 pm's. I don't drink latte' anymore. I never cry or at least try not to. The heart is still shattered. I still stare and never seem to say anything that makes sense. I still love the rain.-       I still love the man. Some things we can change. Some we can't. This much I know. Somebody once said, love doesn't conquer all. It ends and begins again. I can't imagine beginning again, loving someone else when all my heart knows,  is him. I can't even think past think the pain just yet. I mean after all, come this 23rd, seated right in the 2nd pew, I will watch his eyes light up as he takes another woman for his wife. I will watch him take her hand as he slips that ring- which should have been mine, by the way. I will watch him kiss her on the lips and seal their blessed union. In fact, I will do more than watch this heartbreaking scene because he has asked me to light one of the ceremonial candles. Symbolically, those candles will guide their way to a solid union. I've always been the light of his life who's been there for him every step of the way. Ironically, I loved candles.    I hate them now. I don't know what possessed me to say 'yes.' Maybe it was his eyes. I've never been able to refuse him, every time he'd aim those gorgeous eyes my way. Or maybe it was the way he clasped my hand so tightly that he never wanted to let go. I felt like he needed me. I'm a sucker for being needed. Hopeless case?   Definitely. Pathetic loser?   Maybe. Just plain stupid?   Yeah. But anyone whose ever loved THAT someone would be the last to cast stones. It's difficult when you're a veteran at loving someone who can't love you back. So, maybe I should attend this year's dawn mass. Maybe I should set my alarm, and drag myself out of bed, get dress, walk the dark deserted street, crawling with rabid howling dogs, commute to church, all the while cursing the cold and wishing I wouldn't be late. Maybe this year, I'll believe in Christmas again. Maybe this year, something wonderful will happen. Maybe.... this year.... It would be nice, wouldn't it?!

©Ms. Shanidar Cabaraban

Back to previous page

---

©copyright SOON Ministries
Contact us