December, 17th

“Adrian I’m… I’m so sorry.” I felt my eyes well up with tears anew. I felt so- so stupid, so ungrateful, so childish. My… “vendetta” against Christmas, as my Dad rightfully called it, was based on nothing but a wounded pride, a shattered future and a broken-but-never-truly-healed heart. While Adrian had lost someone special, while Christmas had made love hurt him, and yet… he hadn’t given up on it. He hadn’t hidden behind his feelings, behind his pain. Instead, he had used them to fuel him into giving others even more love. Even if he had temporarily lost sight of the magic surrounding Christmas, he had been willing to keep believing in it. While I had given up on it entirely. I was a coward, running away from what was once so dear to me.

“It was three years ago,” Adrian said, lifting the corners of his mouth into a sad smile. “But before he died, he made me promise to keep sharing the feeling of love and warmth with the world. And I promised to make sure everyone who met me around the holidays would know why I cared so much about this time of year. Why grandpa cared so much. That’s why I volunteer, and always try to share as much of this magic with others as possible.”

Now he genuinely smiled, despite the wistful expression still lingering in his eyes. He squeezed my hands, the warmth of his engulfing them in the most comforting way. As if it was just me who had shared a vulnerable story, not him. As if only I needed someone to lean on, not him. “That’s one of the reasons I told you this, Emily. Because love and pain will always co-exist, even if it’s during a holiday dedicated to happiness. There’s a reason so many Christmas movies have a melancholic touch to their story. It’s a feeling everyone can resonate with. It’s one that we can accept and honor, in order to give happiness enough room to exist. Despite the fact that the pain will always be there; how we deal with it, in which way we make it part of our lives, is a choice. One that’s not easy, but one that’s necessary if we want to be happy again.”

By the time he finished, I couldn’t stop some tears from running down my face. His words had hit me straight in the heart, but so did the way he’d looked at me the whole time, with so much understanding, so much softness and pleading… it had opened up a part of me I’d believed to be long gone. But it wasn’t. It had just been hidden, locked away safely, until this man had come with the matching key to free it. To give it permission to come forward, something which I hadn’t been able to do myself.

A hand lifted to my face, wiping away the tears. My eyes closed briefly at the unexpected contact, only to reopen a second later to look straight into Adrian’s. He let his hand rest on my cheek, his thumb gently stroking the spot where my tears had been just moments ago.

“Will you give me another promise, little elf?,” Adrian whispered, blue eyes focused on me. Dipping down to my lips, lifting to my eyes again. He smiled, thumb still brushing.

“Yes.”

“Promise me you’ll give Christmas a real chance. Promise me you’ll allow your heart to be open for the remaining ten days. Please let me try to truly make this work.”