(In which I thought of changing and celebrating.)
Time has never failed to amaze me. I have always known that it moves like a thief – silent, unknown and surprising. Yet every time there is an uncommon scent or feeling in the wind, I would realize that time has indeed ran past me again. When I was left in solitude and was unproductive, I thought it stopped, only to find out that it has moved faster, and when I knew it, I was still alone and futile. And I will be left wondering. And then I will want to chase it, as if I would be able to catch it, and make it stop.
But I know how useless it is, catching time. So I decided that I will walk with it, or run with it. And do my best so it won’t surprise me anymore. Living a moment at a time and living it well. Living and loving freedom and doing the things that make me and others happy. Perhaps it isn’t Time who’s my nemesis but myself; for time has always been consistent and I have always been ungrateful, slow and unproductive. And then I always blame time for being insufficient.
My sister once asked me about the time after turning off her phone and was impatiently looking at me as I started calculating.
“Look, I have adjusted my phone clock twenty minutes ahead of the company clock. Wait.”
“For what? The adjustment, I mean.”
“To avoid being late.”
“Ate, you are so weird. Time has always been constant. You don’t make Time adjust to you. You should adjust yourself to Time.”
A while ago, a man asked me how I was. And I replied that I was fine. It seemed that my response has been so commonly safe that it just made him feel that I’m being unreal and asked again.
“How’s your love life?”
The question didn’t come as a shock since the season has given it an absolute right to be talked and asked about. My one-word response using the mathematical symbol for nothingness has yielded an even higher level of curiosity in him. And I knew the inevitable will be next.
“Really? Ever since he – “
He couldn’t finish the question since it was plain and clear to me what it is. The completion of it won’t injure me though. I want to believe I was over that.
“Well, yes. But I was just busy.”
Surprisingly, it ended just like any other conversation. I did not remember him nor feel shredded. I didn’t think of everything that endeared him to me. That’s a good sign. Perhaps I was really over. And that may mean I can take the mechanical pencil and the other useful stuff I was now glad he gave me out of the dusty box.
Two days before the restaurants and hotels get filled with couples with or without a bouquet of flowers whose price suddenly soared up perhaps a week ago in anticipation for the season, I found myself browsing the net for some travel tips to Manila. I was planning a trip with a special person who I have neglected for several Valentine’s Days already. I guess it was about time that I give her a short break from motherhood and show her some love.
And in case the trip to Manila doesn’t work, and I mean situations when some unusual reasons suddenly emerged from nowhere, there are always coffee shops and our favorite street food. We have planned in advance to give each other gifts since we aren’t expecting a male hand offering us one as suggested by my actual and her theoretical singleness. I take the chocolates, she takes the flowers. Sounds like a fair deal.