Valentines' Eve

Valentines’ Day, 2007.
12:06 AM

I remember flitting about my apartment, multi-tasking. I was getting some cleaning done, fixing up my room, studying pathology, while typing up a paper I needed to hand in in a few days. I was also texting B. (my then-boyfriend). It was his birthday, and he was also staying up late to finish packing up. He was going home to Iloilo (where I studied that time) for his birthday.

“Happy Birthday, B. I love you.” I typed.

He replied with a message that had me chuckling. (For purposes of keeping identities a secret, I’d rather not put it here.:-p)

I remember being excited and very happy that time. He was coming all the way from Manila to spend Valentines Day (and his birthday) with me…my heart leapt at the prospect of being with him again, even if only for a few days.

Before him, I never was a believer in the “magic” of Valentines’ Day…it was always just some overly-hyped celebration where everyone fell under the spell of imposed commercialism…well, most of the time, anyway. (I didn’t really have anyone I was so totally in love with then, of course, so I couldn’t relate.)

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Valentines Day eve 2009
12:10 AM

And now, on this morning, an hour past twelve, this eve of Valentines’ day, I sit quietly in my chair barefoot, with my chin resting on one propped-up knee, comfortable in my blue flannel pyjamas and a white t-shirt softened with use.

He gave me this t-shirt two years ago, when I sent him off after the week that he was in Iloilo. It was sort of a private joke…that we’d trade shirts that we used so that the smell would still be there. His essence was a good, clean, comforting smell that never failed to lift my spirits.

Oh, but how lovelorn I sound!

Everything good that matters has some way of going wrong, hitting a necessary obstacle in the racetrack of life that drives two people to make certain decisions as to how things will go along eventually.

(In short, we broke up, and I admit, up to now, I’m still a little broken up over it. Just a little now, not so much as before.)

But while it lasted, it was certainly the most humbling experience I ever had…in that it was sheer joy, immense sadness, a lot of learning and definitely a lot of growing up. It was a rollercoaster of life experience that I wouldn’t be likely to forget right away. It would be an experience for keeps…something I’d lovingly keep in my baul of memories, something I’d be proud to share. He and I didn’t always agree, but he loved me for me, and that meant a lot. It gave me strength. So instead of feeling hurt and being bitter…I really should learn to take it all as part and parcel of life, and think of myself lucky to have been loved by someone very special, and to have loved him back.

So, I guess in the end, I really have to say...

Happy Birthday B. Thank you.