i’m afraid if all the supermarkets in town runs out of grapes. there’s too many single people around me. my mother asks me will i be the only single twenty somethings in the new year’s eve hang out — i say no while counting inside my head, realizing the single people will be a majority in the group.
romance hasn’t been on my side for years. nonchalant men have make their ways to convince me in giving a way for them to access my life. metaphorically, they have been inside my temple while i’m barely in their bedroom. of course my friends have heard this story over and over again — one even called me out “you have a tendency to see that all people have the heart as kind as you — they’re not”. so this year i’m going to try my luck in romance, again, by not only hoping and wishing.
at 2pm on the last day of 2024, i make a stop to the supermarket before checking in the place me and my friends booked for new year’s eve. we’ve filled in a list of food and or beverages that we’d like to bring for the group. i wrote grapes.
i’m lucky enough to still get to pick boxes of grapes from the supermarket refrigerator. maybe in my area the amount of single people is not as much as i think. there are different types of grapes that i need to pick. so i look at smaller size grapes with larger amount. i will not be the only one eating grapes on this nye (not-so) party.
the line of the queue was not long. in front of me, there’s a relatively new family. they have a toddler that keeps pushing the cart forward and backward as the mother rearrange the stacks of fruit they buy. the father took care of the payment. me? i was saying to myself “me and who?”. after they left, i put two boxes of grapes on the cashier counter and let her scan the barcode. there’s a strong shame arises in me. a part of me wonder whether buying condoms in the convenience store is equivalent to this feeling, because i’m technically letting the cashier know about the sacred deed. she then tell the amount i have to pay and i scan the barcode on her screen. i rushed outside, order an ojol, and continue my trip.
i make another pit-stop to meet my friends. we decided to hangout in a bookstore and mingle for some time with other visitors and the owner as we wait for our other friends to show up. during the mingling session, i shamelessly show what i bought to my friends. they laughed and i’m not offended. the shame that once soaked my soul when i queue at the supermarket becomes so small it’s no longer significant. my friends keep saying they can’t wait to eat those grapes under the table with me.
when we arrive at the place we booked, one of the first thing my friend does was pull out the chairs from the table. he then calls me and ask me to join him under the table. more of us try sitting under that table. marking our spot. getting to know the field. we laugh so hard it makes my stomach ache a bit.
the night is still young. we eat dinner from all the food and beverages others bring. there are chicken strips, pizza, fishcake, milk tea, sushi, and many more. we’re saving the grapes for midnight.
some minutes before the clock strikes 12, me and my friends take out the grapes from the refrigerator. the singles shamelessly circles around the boxes of grapes. we started to pick 12 pieces. the happily partnered friends watched us preparing to do the sacred deed. the singles sit under the table. all the laughter echoed louder under the table. a friend put his phone on a tripod — recording us feeling all silly. shame is not a feeling that visits me under that table. it was all hope and magic and well a little bit of desperation. as i hold 5 grapes on my right hand and the other 7 on my left, my gaze wanders and caught some eyes. we lock into each others eyes, hoping. despite it was dark — due to the cramped space with too much people — i can see the kind of love i desire. as one of them starts the countdown i think about how these fellow single friends have been living brutally — constantly trying, getting back up after another failed story, finding a way to have a little bit of hope again. i may not know the full stories about their almosts and the shall-not-be-mentioned-ever-again plot points, but to hold hope (read: grapes) together feels better than self-sabotaging ourselves by liking more and more me and who memes.
in that moment, i don’t just wish for a romantic love. i desire a liberating friendship and unconditional support for that still hypothetical romantic partnership. i wish that he would get me like how my friends see me — for sure, i’ll try to do the same as well. my friends have set the standard high. they shower me with genuine care and peaceful love even before he’s here.
last night, i ate 12 grapes. now we’ll see. wait whether in the following 12 months, a miracle would swing into my life and make me stop having a grape pit-stop slash errands for years. in the meantime, i will still try hoping.
