On December 24 last year, I was folding clothes at a shop on Chapel Street, and for the first time in my 24 years, secretly hoping Christmas Day would not arrive.
In February, my girlfriend and I had moved from Adelaide (the City of Churches) to Melbourne. We had broken up in August, and by October, I had moved into my new home in Fitzroy. We had gone “no contact,” and I blocked her on all social media apps. Around this time, I had secured a new job on Chapel Street, working for a store that could sell clothes at 70 per cent off and still make significant profit.
Spending Christmas alone can be a difficult experience.Credit: Istock
My parents had been calling, asking when I was to return from Melbourne to Adelaide for Christmas, as had always been the case in my rather short life. But because I had just started the job, I had to work on Christmas Eve and Boxing Day so couldn’t make it home.
At this point in my life, I was severely depressed. My grandmother had recently passed away, my ex-girlfriend was not talking to me and my two best friends had fallen in love with one another. I was miserable.
Looking back at my diary, I wrote: “It’d be funny, if it weren’t so pathetic.”
So, it was Christmas Eve and I was alone. I locked the shop doors, received a text message from my boss thanking me for my efforts, and drove home, where I had Tim Burton’s Batman Returns waiting for me on Netflix.
The spire of St Mark’s Church in Fitzroy.Credit: Nine
It was 6.30pm, and on this particular Christmas Eve, I was just not feeling the film. I looked out my open window and saw groups of people walking towards a nearby church, St Mark’s, on George Street. I had never gone to “midnight Mass”, but I recall my zia and zio doing it when I was younger, and I was intrigued by the concept. On a whim, I grabbed a jacket, threw on some tracksuit pants and headed to the church.
When I arrived, I discovered that the ceremony I was looking to attend did not actually begin until 9.30pm. It was 7.15pm. I sat at the back so that if I wanted to leave, I wouldn’t make a scene. But something happened. Against my better judgment, I decided to stay for a bit. People sang hymns. A kid played the violin. And then the proper ceremony began, and the priest came out. He immediately blessed everyone, and after 15 minutes, I knew I was not going to leave until the entire thing was over.
