It is the most wonderful time of the year

My Christmas had all the prerequisites to be perfect. A decorated Christmas tree as it should be. A welcoming white friendly nutcracker in front of my flat door, Christmas decorations on the balcony, including lights on the railings, candles, new plates, from which no one has ever eaten before, and it never occurred to me that no one would. Just me. Not being lonely, not having these empty chairs, empty plates, empty glasses, a toast without clinking, bitter wine and dry tears. Without it all, this post would not have been created. And I would not realize what the biggest Christmas gift actually means to me.

I am setting my imaginary alarm at exactly 6 p.m to be in touch with my loved ones. With my father, who according to the latest photos got older by a lot and I was not there. I look into his face and examine every wrinkle of his and I can not remember when the first one appeared there and I can only guess which one is from smiling, maybe and which one belongs to me.

With sisters, a brother and their families, who are 1240 kilometers away. In a snowy beautiful small quiet village.

I could. Everything could have been different. I could decorate a Christmas tree with them together and cut the onion into a salad and cry from happiness in a completely different place. At home, in Slovakia, in the kitchen.

If

I was not one of the best at making bad life decisions.

At 18, I could have run the world. But I have ran away. Freedom and the superficial life fascinated me so much that I almost forgot what and who family is. What does this word mean.? How much does that word mean.? Where am I from and where do I belong.

I found myself in cheap clothes, believing the names of fashion brands and tempting drinks. I found myself in the streets of Prague. Myself. Lost. Senseless.

If I was not one of the best at making bad life decisions, I would not have to write this article. I would have a lot of normal worries. I could have more than I have. I would not have to sit alone on Christmas Eve, waiting for the church tower to hit 6th o’clock, and I would not just have to think and try for some kind of virtual connection, a sixth sense, something that has not even been proven to exist.

If you only knew…

Until the last moment, I posted on Facebook that I was inviting three other desperate and sad women to dinner and I was forcing it to everyone, and what do you think? Well, nothing. No one so desperate was found. Except me. I am sitting here alone, two plates. One for me and one for an accidental traveler who does not ring anyway because he does not know where such a naive fool as I live. And besides, I do not even have a name on the door yet, because I am not capable and skilled enough to attach it there.

Do you even know who the accidental traveler is? Not? After all, Maria and Joseph. I should have prepared more plates. Exactly three. Because we all know the happy end of the story.

I am sitting here alone at the Christmas table. Not like it used to be before. I did not even have that Christmas table before. No salad and no food in the kitchen. Only wine. And tears. I have improved. The table is shimmering. The cabbage soup smells good in the kitchen and I force myself to eat and smile, just to deceive myself, that this is nice and that there are people who are much worse off. I cut the garlic into six parts. I eat one piece and leave the other five for the rest of the family in Slovakia. I did the same with the apple, according to tradition. Finally, I threw the rest of the garlic in the cabbage soup and ate the rest of the apple. Myself.

For Christmas Eve dinner, I put on my most beautiful glittery midi dress. I even applied make-up. I made my iconic eyeliner and put on distinctive pearl earrings. Applied a old-pink matte lipstick. Beautiful black mules with such little tender dots and bows, which I immediately fell in love with and bought in debt, and which I dutifully repay every month because they are sinfully expensive. You know. When I bought them, I had an idea in my head. That I will wear them on my first and last date. It never occurred to me in my dreams that for the first time I would wear them to the Christmas Eve table, where I would be alone and that accidental traveler who had never rang.

I was looking forward to this Christmas. I thought it would be different. It never occurred to me at a time when the first Advent candle was burning that I would be alone. Again.

My Christmas had all the prerequisites to be perfect. A decorated Christmas tree as it should be. A welcoming white friendly nutcracker in front of my flat door, Christmas decorations on the balcony, including lights on the railings, candles, new plates, from which no one has ever eaten before, and it never occurred to me that no one would. Just me. Not being lonely, not having these empty chairs, empty plates, empty glasses, a toast without clinking, bitter wine and dry tears. Without it all, this post would not have been created. And I would not realize what the biggest Christmas gift actually means to me.

I wish for you to not make bad decisions. 

Nastavujem si pomyselný budík presne na 18-tu hodinu. Aby som bola v spojení so svojimi najbližšími. So svojim otcom, ktorý podľa najnovších fotiek zase o riadny kus zostarol a ja som nebola pri tom. Hľadím mu do tváre a skúmam každú jeho vrásku a neviem sa rozpamätať, kedy sa tam objavila prvá a hádam, ktorá je asi od úsmevu a ktorá patrí mne…

…so sestrami, bratom a ich rodinou, ktorí sú vzdialení 1240 kilometrov.

Mohla som, mohlo byť všetko inak. Mohla som s nimi zdobiť vianočný stromček a krájať cibuľu do šalátu a plakať od šťastia na úplne inom mieste. Doma, na Slovensku, v kuchyni.

Keby

som nebola jedna z najlepších v robení zlých životných rozhodnutí.

V 18-tich som zdupkala do sveta. Sloboda a povrchný svet ma zaujal natoľko, že som takmer zabudla na to, čo a kto je rodina. Čo to slovo znamená. Koľko to slovo znamená. Odkiaľ som a kam patrím.

Našla som sa v lacnom oblečení, veriaca menám módnych značiek a lákavým drinkom. Našla som sa v pražských uliciach. Sama. Stratená. Zmyslov zbavená.

Keby som nebola jedna z najlepších v robení zlých životných rozhodnutí, nemusela by som písať tento článok. Mala by som kopec normálnych starostí. Mala by som viac, než mám. Nemusela by som sedieť pri štedrovečernej večeri sama, čakať, až na kostolnej veži odbije 18-ta hodina a nemusela by som len myslieť a snažiť sa o akési virtuálne spojenie, o šiesty zmysel, o niečo, čo ešte ani nie je dokázané, že existuje.

Keby ste vedeli…

Do poslednej chvíle som mala na Facebooku zavesený post, že pozývam tri ďalšie zúfalé a smutné ženy na večeru a vnucovala sa každému lajku a čo myslíte.? No nič. Nikto taký zúfalý a sám sa nenašiel. Teda okrem mňa. Sedím tu sama, dva taniere. Jeden pre mňa a jeden pre náhodného pocestného, ktorý aj tak nezazvoní, lebo nevie, kde taký naivný blázon ako ja býva. A okrem iného, nemám ešte ani meno na dverách, lebo nie som dosť schopná a zručná ho tam pripevniť.  

Viete vôbec, kto je náhodný pocestný? Nie? No predsa Mária a Jozef. To aby som pripravila ešte ďalšie taniere. Presne tri. Lebo všetci vieme, ako to skončí…

Sedím tu sama pri vianočnom stole. Nie tak ako kedysi. Kedysi som nemala ani ten vianočný stôl. Žiadny šalát a v kuchyni nerozvoniavalo jedlo. Tieklo víno. A slzy. Polepšila som si. Stôl sa trbliece. Kapustnica rozvoniava na celú kuchyňu a nútim sa do jedenia a úsmevu, len aby som oklamala samu seba. Že takto to je fajn a že sú ľudia, ktorí sú na tom oveľa horšie. Krájam cesnak na šesť častí. Jeden kúsok zjem ja a ďalších päť nechávam pre zbytok rodiny. To isté som urobila s jablkom, presne podľa tradície. Nakoniec som zbytok cesnaku hodila do kapustnice a jablko zjedla. Sama.

K štedrovečernej večeri som si obliekla svoje najkrajšie trblietavé midi šaty. Dokonca sa aj namaľovala. Urobila si svoje ikonické linky, dokonalý make-up a dala výrazné perlové náušnice. Naniesla pudrovo ružový rúž. Krásne čierne mules s takými malými nežnými bodkami a mašličkami, do ktorých som sa okamžite zamilovala a kúpila na dlh a ktoré každý mesiac poslušne splácam, lebo sú hriešne drahé. Viete. Keď som ich kupovala, mala som v hlave takú predstavu. Že si ich obujem na svoj prvý a dúfajúc posledný date. Ani vo sne ma vtedy nenapadlo, že si ich po prvýkrát obujem k štedrovečernému stolu, pri ktorom budem ja, sama a ten náhodný pocestný, čo nikdy nezazvonil.

Tešila som sa na tohtoročné Vianoce. A myslela si, že budú iné. Vôbec ma nenapadlo v čase, keď horí prvá adventná sviečka, že budem sama. Zase.

Moje Vianoce mali všetky predpoklady byť dokonalým gýčom. Vyzdobený stromček, tak ako má byť. Pred dverami vítajúci luskáčik, na balkóne vianočné dekorácie, vrátane svetielok na zábradlí, sviečky, nové taniere, z ktorých ešte nikto nikdy nejedol a ani ma len nenapadlo, že ani nikto nebude. Len ja. Nebyť tej samoty, nebyť tých prázdnych stoličiek, práznych tanierov, prázdnych pohárov, prípitku bez cinknutia, trpkého vína a suchých sĺz. Nebyť toho všetkého, nevznikol by tento post.

Želám vám, aby ste nerobili zlé rozhodnutia.