Big Day

Twelve o'clock at midday and I'm sitting in front of my desk reading "Chasing Harry Winston", where in the world did I ever get so pathetic? Ever since I've started college life, my body has surprisingly managed to get accustomed to waking up at seven-thirty in the morning regardless of what day it is. Today is the only day in months I get to snuggle in bed until ten and wake up to a cup of coffee and no breakfast notion whatsoever. It had been so long since I can remember to wake up feeling lazy, contented, and no inclination of doing anything except doing nothing.

Today is the Big Day for you, my dear sister. You have always been like a sister to me, holding me tight whenever I cry, comforting my at night when we used to share a bed together. Time passed, we grew up, and you left me because you had to be independent anyway. So I lost a good friend and a sister. Conversations between us diminished to the point of having no contact over the pass few years until lately, when our grandmother passed away, and you returned back into my life again.

Had it not been for granny, perhaps we might never talk again. Because of her illness, you return home to take care of her, and we took turns to nurse and care for her during the day. The bond that held us close when we were younger, turned loose as we grew older, was strengthened again with every passing day. Maybe granny knew that all along. Maybe she knew her passing would bring back old relationships. Maybe she wanted us to reconcile again and find comfort and solace in one another. After the funeral, we learned to hold on to the things that really mattered, because time suddenly seem to pass so quickly. You called often, and I took you out for dinner when I got my first paycheck. Now, today, I'm sorry I couldn't be with you on your biggest day. I did wanted so much to be your bridesmaid, to care for you just this one day, when you have cared for me all this time. But above everything else, I want you to be happy. I envision a happy marriage, a happy family, little nieces and nephews running about in a few years, and I wish you a blessed marriage.

I managed to congratulate you through a telephone call that I had somehow bullied my father into making that call. The background noises were so familiar to my ears, and I suddenly found myself wishing I am home again instead of standing in the balcony enduring the cold weather. I miss you, all of you, all that is home. Words became blurred as tears swam in my eyes. Big girl though I am, I can still cry shamefully at times. Thoughts of home made my tears fall thick and fast onto the desk. Crying made me an ugly girl because my eyes got swollen, and my nose got red like Rudolph. Coupling with the fact I hadn't bothered to change out of my pajamas and tousled hair, I might as well end up like a homeless punk.

This is one weekend when I didn't have any assignments or deadlines to rush, so to hell with being meticulous and prime and proper for once. Today is the one day I have earned to sit back, relax, and let my world fall into pieces without even thinking of picking it up. I will pick up the pieces eventually, but not today. Not now. I want to savor my hot chocolate, immerse myself in Fitzgerald, soaking up the Christmas mood, and cuddling into bed with a pair of woolly, warm socks. No Facebook, no Internet, no blogging, nothing to interfere with me and my time. I am crossing out the days until January the 13th. As of today, it is only five weeks left until I go home. Wait for me, will you, my sweet island?