A second chance

I wake up. It's December 22. Three days till Christmas and I... am not excited about it.

I take off my glasses and cover my face with my hands. It's been such a stressful month. Well, December is always like that. Everyone is so busy and excited and stressed and anxious... It's like OMG!

It has been so hard to come to work these past few days. Everyone is like, what are you doing for Christmas? Are you going to Chicago to visit your family? Are you staying here all by yourself? Oh, and then there's these stupid people who think they're better than you just because they're thirty-six like you and have children and a devoted spouse. And yeah, I know I don't have any of that, but I could care less. I tried to date someone, back when I was twenty-five, but I ruined everything. We were planning on marrying and starting a family... We already had our future together planned ahead of us. Everything was perfect; everything seemed like a fairytale, but then—

"Sasha?" An unmistakable voice calls my name.

I turn around and face Miss Martinez, my boss.

"Yes?" I ask fearfully. I'm sure she's going to assign me more tasks to do, so that means I'll have to work on Christmas.

Great.

I wasn't planning on doing anything other than sitting on the couch and watching TV while eating ice cream, but still, I'd like to have a day off of work.

"I need you to send me the last income analysis. I have to compare it with the previous ones before the year-end. Could you do that?" She asks, not making eye contact with me. She's pretty busy reading a stock of papers she's holding with her left hand.

"Eh... yeah, no problem. I'm on it" I say and turn around to keep on working, assuming the conversation is over.

"Oh, and, Sasha..." she starts, this time she is looking at me.

"Yes? Anything else?" I turn around and face her.

"Merry Christmas. Are you spending the holidays with your family back in Chicago?" She amiably asks and I want to kick her in the ass.

You see what I'm talking about, right? I hate this time of the year because I despise people assuming you're spending the holidays with your family because that's what everyone expects you to do. Well, not everyone gets along with their families and not everyone wants to do what's expected.

"Thank you and no, I'm staying in New York this year" I simply answer, biting my tongue so I don't take it out on her.

"Oh, so you're spending the holidays with someone special?" She winks and I want to slap her real hard.

See, she's assuming again.

"No, it's just me," I want this conversation to end.

"Oh, okay. Well, I'll let you get back to work then, see you later." She says, a bit disappointed and disappears into her office.

"See you"

God, when will this nightmare be over?

***

I open the door and throw my keys into the kitchen counter. I take off my coat and toss it to the sofa. I walk into my bedroom and plump down on the bed. What a day.

I log in on my Instagram account and spend the next thirty minutes looking at stupid celebrities' posts. I enter my profile and this stupid app reminds me about the photos I posted exactly three years ago, back when I was with Luke.

I sigh. Now I remember why I hate the holidays so much. It's not only because everyone is suddenly worried about other people's private lives and that's a pain in the ass, but also because since he left me every damn Christmas is a torture.