Tiffany is your best friend.

So I've just begun my Christmas vacation in the City of Money. It is gorgeous and I couldn't stop taking pictures of every interesting thing in this place. I walked around the city all day and saw this creative adorable window display at Tiffany & Co.

It reminds me of Breakfast at Tiffany's. Tiffany & Co. is the only place in the world where everyone would treat you with respect. Ironically, I do not have any item from Tiffany's either.

I kept walking, and then came across the magnificent giant Christmas tree. I snapped some pictures and sat on one of the benches on the sidewalk. Everyone in this city is walking with a partner, be it a friend, romantic partner, or family members, except for me. I was completely by myself. My phone did not ring a bit, not even a text message from anyone except my mom and brother. I watched the tree, propelled to cry again but I managed to hold back because there were simply too many people on the street and I didn't want to make myself awkward in public.

Finally I arrived at a huge toy shop. It's a shop filled with love. Most people were shopping there with their kids, and there were some couples too. I was probably the only single person. Then I began to imagine me and Cato shopping there for our kids.

"Stuffed toys?" He asked.
"Don't they already have a lot of stuffed toys? Oh wait, look at that bear! I'd buy one for myself!" Then I moved my face toward his with a childish grin and he burst into smile as well.
"Oh hey, Harry Potter!" He said with excitement.
"Oh yeah, let's definitely get these. I know you'd love the hat for yourself too." So we grabbed a few items from the Harry Potter section.
"How about board games? It can stimulate their thinking and we can join them too." I said.
"Sure. How about this one?" He reached for a trivia game called "Zero".
"Sounds fun! Let's get that one." I replied.
We looked around some more but some of the stuffed toys were simply unrealistically expensive so we decided to check out.
"You think the kids will be excited?" I asked.
"Oh yeah, they'll probably get too high!" He replied.
Both of us were carrying a huge bag of the stuff we just bought and we walked out from the store hand in hand.

Then it was cold; then I realized I was still alone and he never replied to my phone call or G-chat message. He hates me now. He doesn't care if I'm dead or not.

I returned to my hotel, having a king-size bed all to myself. I miss those nights when I slept in his arms. Sometimes he'd hold me really tight all night and I was entirely comfortable with it. In the morning he'd kiss me before I wasn't even close to waking up. We'd make out in the morning and he'd lay his head on my chest like a baby and I'd kiss his forehead, wrapping his head with my arms.

It's Christmas Eve. I am a little concerned about being awkward alone at that fancy expensive restaurant for Christmas Eve dinner. My plan is to act cool like a food critique, snap some pictures of the food and jot down some pseudo-professional notes about how the food tastes so people would assume I am there alone for dinner because of work rather than my interpersonal failures.

After the dinner I will still go to see the Christmas tree again. I need to take a closeup look at it and make a wish. Another reason is because I am hoping Cato would cover my eyes from behind while I'm staring at the tree and whisper to my right ear "guess who this is" in a playful way. I'd pause for a long time and then he feels warm tears in his hands. I turn around and he gives me a gift and says "Merry Christmas."