It’s cold out and I find myself just sighing one after the other. I am preoccupied these days. Not just with things to do but with thoughts. I am overwhelmed with thoughts. If I have been nothing but giddy the last week, this week I am definitely anything but giddy. The more serious part of this is that I am not sure I will be feeling giddy any time soon. Not this coming week most definitely.

The baby scrapbook I have zealously started on two weeks ago with an impromptu shopping spree – if not all shopping sprees are, that left me two thousand pesos poorer as I walked out of this little scrapbooking store in Sta. Lucia is sitting undisturbed on the second floor hallway, after half-finishing the first pages that documented the arrival of the baby almost seven months ago. The idea is to make at least a page for every month for the first year. Just like what my sister Jasmin did for my nephew Sean. That being said, I am [almost] seven months behind.

Speaking of the baby, sometimes I find it hard to believe she is just six months, with all the things she does and can do. I am finally beginning to accept she will be bigger than I will ever be. Literally and hopefully, figuratively. She looks so big. Sometimes I ask out loud, “Is it just me or am I not seeing enough babies to be able to tell whether mine is smaller, or bigger or just the average size for her age?”

I have also been documenting the collection of accessories I have acquired through the years. I plan on disassembling them to fashion them into new and hopefully more exciting pieces. If I fail at exciting at least I will succeed in the new part. I have started putting together a few pieces here and there a few days ago, after a valiant trip to the city of Manila. I say valiant because I had merely wanted to take my mind off things… sad ones specifically. I remember sitting in one jeepney to the next, a blank and sometimes grim expression on my face, not minding the hours. If it was possible to cry, I would have; but I do not want to indulge these tears. I need my strength. I do not want my tears to fall just yet. So far, the city of Manila is the farthest I can go to, given that I cannot be away from the baby for long periods of time. If circumstances were different, I would have been miles and miles away out of the city. The trip to the city of Manila rendered me four thousand pesos poorer, but at least richer by a few points in experience and little tidbits of rather useful information… like where Hidalgo Street is relative to the church of Quiapo. Then again, another little project sitting in one corner of the living room, waiting for me to pick up some inspiration that will drive me to picking them up from their suspended indolence. Yes, their suspended indolence, by virtue of transference.

Like I always do when bothered, or perhaps what most people do, I have been going through my Facebook games in the hopes that mindless clicking will help. No, most people do not go through Facebook games to take their mind off things; just the performance of inconsequential things for the purposes of passing time.

“Most days of the year are unremarkable. They begin, and they end, with no lasting memories made in between.” – Narrator, (500) Days of Summer

I am mostly quiet these days. While sitting at a party a few nights ago, I began to wonder whether I still deserve my name. I am more content to sit in the back, observe everyone, just smile, make polite conversations and be more of a wallflower – blending more and more in the background. I have also began to wonder whether I like this change or not. Or was I ever? I am giddiest the most when I am with my high school friends. Or maybe when I am with my theater friends, they are always just giddier than I am.

There is this sadness.. deep within me. These days I am at a loss for words. Unable to communicate or perhaps, unwilling. What is there to say? What can be said that will not be misunderstood?

Did I not tell someone a few nights ago that the past does not bother me anymore? That I do not care anymore, only to be thought of as someone who is apathetic instead of someone who has finally accepted? Is it not enough that I spent most of my twenty seven years asking why and even going through hours paying someone in an attempt to understand? Last month I have come to the realization that some things are just the way they are. A month ago may be pretty recent but that realization is deep down to the core of my heart.

“All over the world, people are losing their futures and yet there are people who are hung up over the past…”- 8th October 2009

If my tears refuse to fall, it is not because my heart is cold and unforgiving. It is because I am trying to be strong.

My parents are coming over this week. I hope they would find some time to come over to see the baby. My husband’s work requires him to fly out of the country more often than is convenient for anyone. He will be gone almost all of this week and the last weeks of this month. He will be gone for half the month and I am surely not looking forward to that. If circumstances were different, I would be occupying myself with travel plans, booking plane tickets and getting reservations to various little resorts; but right now I am preparing myself for what difficulties it will pose to the baby, she being used to having her father around, and for me who will be helping her cope with that absence. I just know it will be trying and tiring and most certainly, un-looking-forwardable.

There is this sadness at the core of my being. There is this sadness gnawing at the edges of my heart. And this is a sadness I am not familiar with. This too is a sadness I will have to bear for months to come. If you find me smiling and laughing on the moments of forgetfulness, consider it a gift to myself and not indifference. If you find me silent, indulge me in a conversation on any subject regardless of significance. If you find me in tears, love me by not asking why.