Nothing Hurts

It's four in the morning on a Sunday. Roxas Boulevard is closed for an organized run. The registered runners must still be at the starting coral. For the next half hour after gun start, this road will appear like it's closed entirely for me, completely empty. As I run, I will watch the sky crack first light by the sea. I will run fast and exhilarated. Perhaps exhilarated is a poor word choice. Whatever it is that sweeps me, I close my eyes, the wind touches my face and configures my mouth into a smile, smudging it with a joyful abandon. I run as if with winged feet.

At 1pm to 4pm in the afternoon on weekdays, I cruise one coffee shop after another, listening to music, reading one book after another.

I drive I. to school everyday, and as we wander the streets we have the best stories and conversations.

Sometime in the morning or in the evening, I read more poetry to my daughter while I hold her. We listen to more music. I prepare her bath. I help with the chores.

And even if I always see my wife, I still always long for her and fill her with my mushiness.

At night, a stress-free, brief and steady stream of work comes to me at home. I even do it with a certain amount of satisfaction and fulfillment. I earn very little now, and reconsider my prospects for the future. I'm beginning to build the confidence that I can truly cement my departure from the Business Process Outsourcing Industry, from high-range salaries and high-level pretension.

For a considerably long time now, I have been free of conflict.

I feel like I'm about to melt with so much of this tenderness.

If you were once lonely, so much happiness feels like you're just cheating.

Guiltily, we live the lives we always wanted.

The future me time travels and tells me now, hold on to that feeling. No, don't just hold on. Cling tenaciously.

Whatever it is that sweeps me, I close my eyes, the wind touches my face and configures my mouth into a smile, smudging it with a joyful abandon.