It will be my birthday soon.
I love birthdays. I love how people make such fuss over it, I love the attention I get (even for just that one day), I love how I can use it as my excuse for almost everything and most of all, I love how that day present itself as a reflection of the things I’ve done and haven’t done.
I’d like to think the new year of my life each year starts on my birthday and ends on the eve of my next birthday. I usually wake up with a warm feeling and knowing no matter what happens, whether a bad thing a great thing or nothing, it’s still something.
I feel it each year that I know it should be this way everyday but hey, it’s my birthday, you know. I can feel anyway I want on this day.
It’s going to be the second time around that I’m pregnant during my birthday. Funny how I thought I wouldn’t be pregnant by the time I’m at this age but here I am waiting for my second child. It’s a weird feeling – I’m excited to have something so big that I need to be responsible of, glad for what it taught me, curious to know how I will fare, a little demented for not being able to do the things I used to do when I want to, puzzled at why I even thought of doing this and wondering if it’s a good idea after all.
There are times I imagine how my life would be like if none of these had happened. If I were still the same person I was 5 years ago. I imagined it would be the same or better because I have no obligations whatsoever but that is why you call it imagination. For all I know I may not have kids in tow but I may have some other things to worry about, which will make me wonder what it would be like if I don’t have those things to worry about.
Things have been stretched thin at the moment and both of us are straining to get by. Yet we’re together and I don’t feel like we’re falling apart. I thought it would change something but things seem to be okay if not bringing us closer. We’re always together when bad things happen and I guess I prefer it that way. You always hear people say that you can see one’s true colors at their worst days or in worst situations. Even though I know things could get worse than what it is right now, I guess our true colors shone through enough for us to know.
Why do we do this? I mean, why do people submit and commit themselves to something that binds them more than it should, that ties things down so restrain had to be observed so lives are preserved and hearts are taken care of. Why there will always be at one point, gallivanting and promiscuity isn’t the answer to everything?
Does it not provide comfort or soul-satisfaction even on endless, meaningless courting? Hah, there it is right there – endless, meaningless. Do I even need to ask more to convince me that the things that are happening and will happen, the things that I’ve chosen will from now on be where my life leads, that at the end of the day, it’s what human is searching for?
A sense of belonging. A sense of belonging even though it doesn’t make sense. A sense of belonging even though you have no idea whether what you’re doing is the right thing. A sense of belonging with the hope that perhaps just this one time, life will be good for you. A sense of belonging even when all seems lost.
A sense of belonging that is so strong that one thing that once meant the most to you has turned out to be the least important.
It will be my birthday soon.
And what does all this come down to?
No matter what happens, no matter how dark it will seem to be, I know we’ll stick together. I know that birthday is never an ominous thing for no one is born cursed. All I have to do now is hang tight, swallow this orange-size lump in my throat and remember to breathe.