As I was celebrating my birthday, someone’s funeral was taking place.
Fast-forward. A few nights ago, as Au was choking back her tears at the sight of her surprise birthday party, a relative of mine was holding on for dear life. That relative died on the eve of another friend’s birthday.
Flash back again. On the eve of my birthday, my friends and I dropped by my friend’s lolo’s wake, his final night. We left a little before
At first I thought it was just one of the laws or superstitions that you find absurd but have to follow anyway to appease the gods and goddesses, or at least the movers and shakers of your life. And then I thought of the many birthdays I didn’t bother to celebrate because of the growing pressure to be happy on those days even if you’re not. Perhaps my mom thought the words “condolence” and “happy” don’t sound too well when put together. But after some serious thinking, I’ve concluded that life and death are a perennial love team—like bread and butter, cup and saucer, guy and pip, chip and dale…
I think it’s impossible to celebrate life and appreciate it completely without the full awareness of death. Come to think of it, if you know you’re going to live forever, what’s the point of counting the years? You’ll just be collecting days forever and for what? Life and death…poles apart but nevertheless inseparable.
I have also learned that growing old is different from growing up. Growing old comes with responsibilities; growing up comes with understanding, with knowing that the world has a far more important mission than attending to your needs and frustrations. Unlike growing old, growing up is not compulsory, and birthdays have nothing to do with it. It just happens, at irregular servings and at irregular intervals. For me, I think most of my growing up happened this year. Maybe somebody decided that I’ve put it off much too long already.
What a difference a year makes. I used to think that as long as you’re not contributing to the scum population, you’re already doing the world a huge favor. I thought it’s enough to pay your bills, pay your tax, abide by the traffic rules, mind your own business, follow paternal orders, feed your children, visit the sick, and bury the dead. But I guess being human takes a lot more than that. This brings me more questions: What makes us humans? The pursuit of happiness? But what is happiness? Is it really synonymous with contentment? Peace? Satisfaction? Perfection?
If so, then how easy it is to be happy. Just be contented with what you have, what you are, and where you are. Don’t dream. Don’t aspire for greater things. Don’t wish to be better. Don’t compete. Don’t go anywhere unfamiliar. Don’t look at the stars and wonder why they are perched above the rest of us. Don’t think. Don’t ask questions. Make do with what is there, with who’s available. Love only those who love you, only those who will love you back. Pretend that you believe that you are born to thrive with the rest of the workforce, those who live for work, bills, tax, booze, and sex. Pretend that you believe that this is all there is to life. Only then can you tell me that everything you could ever want and need is right at your fingertips. In short, downgrade your standards and everything will be perfect, everything will be too good to be true.
But I guess being happy takes a lot more than this, too—more than deciding not to be lonely. So I do hope that some people will take great care when saying “be happy.” As I’ve recently found out, happiness is not something you can force on anyone, not even on yourself.
Right now, I’m still trying to get accustomed to normalcy. After going through hell and back, I get a little suspicious sometimes when life throws good things at me. It almost feels dirty—this unwelcome liberty—like a bribe, a free lunch, or an undeserved salary raise. What is this going to cost me this time?
But then I think of how I’ve managed to keep a good head on my shoulders during those rocky times. Of how I’ve kept my values and how I’ve preserved my sense of self. I was the one on the losing end and I could have misbehaved if I wanted to; I have all the rights and justifications. But I didn’t, and it took every ounce of my energy. I fought my own demons alone and at night, when no one is watching and the risk of a collateral damage is at its lowest. I never burdened anyone, never cried in front of anyone, never pointed a finger. If this is not achievement enough for you, not enough to earn your kudos, then fuck you, Life, bring it on. I am stronger than you think.
Nevertheless, I am not going to pretend that I’m over him. Sometimes I’m not even sure if there were enough getting-over efforts in the first place. But at least, aside from learning certain survival and anger management skills, I have already come to terms with all my unanswered questions and made peace with my past mistakes. After all, even with the best intentions and the best laid-out plans, life spins out of control from time to time. That’s beyond my control. I can’t always own up to the misfortunes of the world. I can’t always take the blame for everything. I’m just a little girl, and my decision was just one decision. Other people could have acted differently if they really wanted that happy ending. He could have acted differently. If he did, then maybe, just maybe, my mistake could have been easily forgiven and forgotten. It could have been just another insignificant flutter of a butterfly wing.
But, as I’ve said, mistakes are necessary evils, things you can either choose to peacefully live with or spend you whole life running away from. I’m choosing the healthier option this time.
As for love, maybe I’ll love again, maybe I won’t. If we consider the ratio between the number of men and women in the universe, I doubt that everyone will be assured of a lifelong partner. But even with these figures, plus the dwindling supply of straight, formidable, and non-polygamous bachelors, I’m not entirely losing hope. One of these days, I’m going to fall hopelessly, fiercely, stupidly, and head-over-heels in love with someone again. And it will probably hurt again, as badly as the first. It will make me cry and scream and throw myself at the mercy of someone again. It has to. And in the end I’ll cherish every groan, every cringe, every sting, every pang of pain, because only a coward bastard would love a person for mere proximity and expediency. No pun (and bitterness) intended.
Yes, I’ll probably love again…but not today. If you want me dead, the easiest and most dignified way is to blast my brains off with a shotgun. Spare me the hassles of another heartbreak, that’s too gory.
I’m going to change the world one day; I will make it a better place—one that’s conducive to little girls naïve enough to give it their all. But for now, allow me the luxury of being reckless. Let me screw up a bit, just a little bit more if only to say that I’ve lived a life that knows no regrets, no limits…if only to say that once upon a time, I was young and restless and free.
Someday, I’m going to change the world. Someday I'm going to move mountains with my bare hands, but for now, let me succumb to my own foolishness. Let me submit myself to new possibilities, discover new frontiers, explore uncharted territories. I know there’s comfort in leading a picture-perfect life, but I think a little unpredictability wouldn’t hurt. It’s ok not to be ok sometimes. And if I intend to be happy in this life, I’ll have to learn how to loosen my grip on things and take the backseat once in a while. After all, the sky is an infinite mass, and I think even with overpopulation issues, there are enough happy endings for six billion people, even for the unworthy, screwed up ones. For this, we only need to trust that there’s a higher power, a divine force that governs the mechanism of the universe. We have to because there’s no other way, because I’d like to believe that there’s wisdom in all these.
I don’t have all the answers now, but I do know a certain connection in all these exists—the same connection that bridges life and death, heaven and hell, human and inhumane, triumph and tragedy, happiness and sadness, love and indifference. Luckily, I don’t need to know everything at once, but I sure hope that the higher power would bless me with a little understanding so I can sleep soundly tonight.
Goodnight, world. Goodnight, November. Tomorrow, as always, I’ll be one day older, wiser, stronger, braver.
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