Christmas Gone Wrong (VegasPete) - Completed

Cherish

25th December 2022

Dearest Vegas,

Yes, this is how I am going to call you. I'm not going to specify which word I meant.

Goodbye, Chainsaw. It was great while it lasted.

I have so many things to say today but so little time. Is this even Christmas? It sure wouldn't have felt like one had it not been for your letter. Had it not been for you.

You said so many things. So many precious things. I can't possibly express in words how it made me feel. And it doesn't help that I am not the most expressive person in the world. I probably won't even come in the top seven point ninety-nine billion expressive people. But I'll still try to be more expressive so I could do a bit of justice to your letters so far.

After reading your note, I tried saying your name out loud. I'm not sure if I said it right but is it normal to feel the fluttering in the stomach just by this? I have no clue.

But you know what I figured out? You do look like a Vegas. The name suits you. And I don't know if it'll make any sense but even your name adds to your charm.

And you are a former hedgehog dad and current cat dad? At this point, you almost sound fictional to me.

(I'm sorry about Little Buddy :( He looks like a little ball of sunshine. I am sure he lived a good life. He had you, after all)

I'll answer the questions first because what I want to say might stretch a bit longer and I only have twenty-one minutes of my break left. Yay, Christmas.

What am I doing on Christmas?

I'm writing this letter sitting in the break room of the hospital during my break time. It's quiet and empty in here which is unusual. I read your letter on the bus sitting in the corner-most seat in the last row. I'm pretty sure the woman sitting beside me was trying to peek into your letter but I was too busy stopping my muscles from giving in and smiling like a fool on the bus (which I am sure I failed to do). I hate the impatient being within me who couldn't wait to reach a more peaceful place to open your letter and your present.

I think I gasped out too loud when I peeked into the blue little box the first time and then I stopped. Told myself to get a grip. To wait till I get alone. I didn't want to share this moment with anyone else. It is my present after all.

So here I am sitting by the tall window on the second floor. It's almost noon and the sky is coloured in all shades of blues and whites, the weather looks pleasant for long walks, and I have the most beautiful pendant around my neck which I can't stop touching. When I held it, I was so awestruck. It looked so delicate and pure.

Do you realise what you did here? You made my heart leap out of the bounds of the ribcage and run to somewhere I don't know. Let me know if you see it running around inside your room.

The pendant looks so breathtaking! And to know someone put so much thought into creating this? It makes me wonder what I did to deserve this because, your gift? It is perfect. I love it. I understand the weight of my words here when I say that it is quite possibly my new favourite present. Thank you, Chainsaw!

(Just realised I wrote Chainsaw instead of Vegas. Old habits die hard, right?)

Where were we again?

Yeah so, I have a tall glass of caramel frappe on the seat beside me because I don't want to take chance and have it spill all over this letter.