It's amazing how time is reduced to the vulnerability of a dewdrop that hangs for one precarious moment and then goes away as though it was never there.
Four years. And yet being married to the father of my toddler has never been so suspenseful but worth everything I laid aside for good. At times, the little good things I had in the years I was with my past joys are tempting to go back to--things like former work stations, people I had grown to be comfortable with and the like--which of course includes the perks, the money, the bonuses, and the travels I so sorely miss. But ah, just what are these things? On the surface, with all the compounding financial needs and the endless clamor against the skyrocketing increase of commodities plus the seeming need to catch up with the latest technological gadgets and toys the third-world public is crazy with these days, it is so easy to take a step back to the old world where life was easier. But minus my husband and my little Kiny, I'd rather forget the time warp! I'd rather wallow in the simplicity of life here than go through life again in the desert.
Four years had been wonderful. A little less like a quiet country paradise where you only worry how to answer your two-year-old's query why the sensation of "itch" is not equivalent to "pain." Or why a mosquito's bite is itchy and an ant's is painful and itchy at the same time. Oh, and how to cook a kinamunggayang utan with tanglad from a neighbor's garden just to cater to your man's insatiable appetite for law-oy.
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