2 days to christmas – lords a-leaping

Written by: Oon Jie Rong (23-I1)

Designed by: Tan Shi Ying Marissa (23-O1)

I

“Sorry pa, I can’t make it for Christmas.”

Jason stared at the send button on his phone. He sighed, pushing his head into the plush train seat. Closing his eyes, he rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Why’d it have to be on Christmas of all days?” He muttered.

Winter had come, and it was that time of the year again. Outside the window, the distant silhouettes of mountains interspersed with the glaring city lights painted a picturesque scene, yet Jason couldn’t bring himself to enjoy it. He reopened his phone, reading and re-reading the message he had to send. It wasn’t pleasant. Again and again, Jason tried to rewrite and rephrase the message – it felt like writing an obituary; and all he could do was to try and soften the initial impact – yet, it didn’t make up for the fact that he would miss Christmas for the third time in a row. This time, he even promised his family he would make it, and it didn’t help that they were more than halfway across the world.

He took another look at the fateful email which had (metaphorically) sealed his fate. It was un-inspiringly anticlimactic. If it had been something truly important – something which actually elicited worry – maybe, just maybe, his parents would let him off the hook for this one. Unfortunately for him, it was far from it: an “urgent” work assignment which needed him to travel on Christmas day just to file out some paperwork. He could lie to his parents, say it was something really urgent that needed to be done by him, and him alone, but he couldn’t. 

He had had enough of lying to his parents. It was time to face the music.

II

Jason didn’t have fond memories of family reunions. He was never comfortable with the noise and the pressure. It also didn’t help that as he got older, his relatives kept pestering him with questions about his life; specifically the nosy ones who asked him when he would get a girlfriend. 

He didn’t have the heart to tell them that he wasn’t interested.

He hadn’t met his parents for three years now. The first two years were a blur; moving to Japan for work had been hectic yet memorable, but it also gave him a reason to get away from family, and all the bad memories that they brought. It was easy to lie to them at first – the usual excuses of the “glamour” of working and living overseas, the high pay and prestige – they were all useful veneers to hide under. 

And he had never felt so free before.

But, the holidays always hurt. Not any more than when he was forced to put on a convincing smile to meet distant relatives, but when those around him were celebrating with family and friends – he’d often sit, alone, in his apartment, and play video games for hours. At most, he’d leave a voice message to his parents. Just enough to seem genuine, and just enough to seem busy.

Just over the mountains in the distance, the sun began to peak above them, illuminating the train in a brilliant orange glow. Jason had never really minded the silence of the Shinkansen before. But now, as he headed towards Hokkaido, the unnatural quiet ate away at him whilst he was swimming in his own thoughts; the silence was deafening.

“How foolish I was,” Jason lamented, “to think I was even happy to have a reason to miss another Christmas at first.” His third year here wasn’t any less hectic; work was busy, the holidays were lonely, and he even got a pay raise a couple of months back. Yet, as much as he may despise the notion, he began to feel homesick. He missed home. The good memories, the ones he enjoyed, the ones he had looked forward to reliving, in the loneliest of nights. It also didn’t help that his parents had been pressuring him to go back home more and more. It was getting harder and harder to find reasonable excuses to not visit them, but more importantly… 

It only made missing this Christmas even more painful. 

III

As an only child, Jason never quite had the luxury of kinship. His relationship with his parents was… complicated, and not to mention the particularity of his extended family, Jason had become accustomed to the feeling of being lonely. It ate away at him; but he got used to the gnawing sensation. What he couldn’t quite handle was being afraid.

He’d always been a little afraid, but then again, he didn’t have much to lose back then. All he would have to do was to pass any “oddities” in his behaviour off as just “quirks” of his personality. His parents never noticed his lack of attention to the other sex; the butterflies which fluttered in his chest when he spoke to his close friends; his disinterest and disdain of the “advice” of his relatives to get a “nice girl” when he grew up. The closest call he had was when they asked about his rainbow paraphernalia – uttering a simple lie about ‘just’ liking rainbows, he involuntarily recalled the words his father used: that he was “scared” of Jason being…

Jason didn’t have the heart to tell them the truth.

Now, however, it was very different. He had forged a path for himself here; a new identity, separate from his past self. It was comfortable, if a little lonely. 

But now, three years had come and gone, and he had to stop running from who he had been. The comfort of his established reality was always under threat, and would always be, unless he did something drastic.

IV

As the train departed from another station, Jason took another look at his phone again. It was nearing late morning now, and Jason was almost reaching his stop. It occurred to him that he had never actually sent the message to his father, and it merely sat as a draft.

Perhaps there was something drastic to be done.

It would be a bold and brazen leap of faith; he couldn’t be quite sure how they would react. If past experiences told him anything however, he certainly wouldn’t receive a welcoming response. Yet, he knew that this would be the last secret he held dear – the most important lie he had ever told – and he knew that one way or the other, he would be set free.

But did he want to be free? 

Jason had never been the most filial child, but his parents had loved him the same anyways. Or, they tried their best to. He was distant from them, never quite being able to relate to them, and vice versa. They tried to instil values of diligence and morality in him from a young age, although it unfortunately manifested itself in forcing him to write and memorise the ten commandments over and over again as a punishment for doing bad things. They tried, at least. 

Yet, he didn’t doubt, even for a second, that he loved them as well. Or, that he tried to love them too. He was pretty sure that his half-hearted voice messages weren’t the best testament to his filial piety. And also the lying. His mind flashed back to two of the ten commandments that were now etched in his memory.

“Honour your father and mother.” 

He didn’t like to admit it, but he most definitely could have been a better son. Especially as an only son. It dishonoured the efforts of his parents and himself, and he knew full well that he should have; could have been better, if he actually tried.

“Thou shalt not bear false witness.”

He definitely lied and deceived, that was obvious. Yet, was he not justified in hiding the truth, out of fear for his own self? Nonetheless, it felt like a burden – weighing down his every action – and perhaps, there might have been, might be, a better way to handle it.

He couldn’t be happy in this life. Not without freedom. Happiness has to be fought for.

V

“Hey pa, I’m sorry, I won’t be able to make it for Christmas, I have a last minute work thing to settle.”

Jason stared at the grim message on his phone, and the send button next to it. He could do nothing to avoid missing Christmas now. Yet, he still stood at a crossroads: should he continue to run and hide from himself? Or, should he stand and embrace his true identity – and the consequences that follow? 

He shook these thoughts from his head. It was time to face the music.

Happiness has to be fought for.

“Hey pa, I’m sorry. I need to tell you something…”