You started out with a bang—literally and figuratively. When you first came, I was truly on cloud 9. As the weeks progressed, the weight that you had me carry became heavier and heavier.

Sinulog ’09 came and I dared to walk the streets of Fuente. I shouldn’t have… For then I saw a huge python. I ran away from it—you know this.

February came and went. Valentine’s day. What’s that? Oh! I was supposed to watch a Valentine show together with my friends. But then, I opted to stay home for reasons better known to me.

March ’09 was filled with laughter. I was having a grand time with my class. I didn’t know that the laughter was going to become a ghoulish nightmare designed only to torment me.

April was such a haze. May was a blur… The end of May felt like the end of my life… I learned who were true and who were snakes (no wonder I saw a python). 30 days of tears and acting A-okay in front of other people. I had to show a strong façade. I couldn’t (and can’t!) crumble. I am strong—I had to tell myself this. I had to be strong. But only for a little while… 2009—what an illusionist you were. Someone cried for me. You know this. But looking back, I have to ask you this, were those tears for me or was it for that person’s own selfish reasons? Never mind though. It really doesn’t matter anymore.

June and July ’09—were you even part of 2009’s calendar? I barely noticed you. Barely.

August ’09… You became all too real for me. I had to start from scratch.
September and October ’09. Met a lot of new people… I don’t know who were true. I may never know. I might never care.

But October ’09! You broke my heart! My Bela! My only child! On the 20th of October of your year—Dear 2009! She was hospitalized. I’m sure—I’m very sure, you still remember what my Bela had to endure. 5 days. 5 days! If you ever have your own children 2009, let me know. So I can pray that they don’t go through what my Bela went through.

November 2009… November 2009… I went back to my nirvana. Though incomplete because my Bela was not (yet!) with me—it was still nirvana for me… Thank you November 2009. If you didn’t come, I wonder where I would be right now…

December 2009. The first day of your last month—Dear 2009—is the birthday of a dear friend of mine. Happiness over little things (sweet and sour fish, old photographs, friends, tempura, and etc)—that I’ve mastered here in my nirvana. Though there was a twinge in my heart, I was happy none-the-less. Who wouldn’t feel this twinge (when one longs for the comfort and the love of someone special) when one is surrounded by lovebirds??? December 2009… I turned another year older when your 10th day came. It wasn’t a remarkable day. The only thing that I will always remember would be the fact that it was the first time we were able to eat at KFC Dumaguete.

December 2009. No. I am not done with you. You proved to be the best month of all. My Bela turned 2 when your 16th day came. How time flies… Christmas was spent at home. Though only so little of us, it was still a happy Christmas. December 2009, I wish you stayed… Even for a few more days. You brought so much bliss!

December 31, 2009—this was your last day 2009… Despite all the tears that I shed for you this year, you managed to turn my life around before saying goodbye.

Dear 2009… I am not sorry to see you go. I am not mad that you came… I am thankful though. I am thankful that you came… and went… I know that you’re never coming back. But please forgive me if I tell you that I’d rather forget some months and just treasure—in my memory—a few…

2009. Thank you. Because of you—of the lessons you’ve taught me—I now know myself better. And I’ve learned to appreciate my nirvana… Big or small.

Goodbye 2009. May our paths never cross again.