I have a box of bottles. Twenty of them, to be exact. It was a birthday gift from a girl I like. I call her B.

Each of the bottles contained at least one hand-written message from her. Some of them were lovely quotes from our daily conversation. Some of them were instructions on how to make her happy everyday.

It's weird though, that I'm still keeping the box in my closet, when we're no longer on talking-basis. I'm not known to cling on things. I threw away my first photo album to make space for newer photos.

Yet, again and again, I decided to keep the box.

It's Christmas Eve tonight, and I have nowhere to go. I took out the box, opened each bottle, and read the messages once again.

Tears filled my eyes, not because it's another lonely Christmas eve, or some sand irritated my eyes. It's because deep inside my heart, I still want to see her again. And that is what I would wish for if I ever get to meet Santa.

Merry Christmas.