I hate February. I hate hate hate it.

February was invented by the Romans. Its name comes from the festival they held on the 15th, called "Februa". It was meant to be a special time of purification and cleansing, where they burned things and prepared for a new year with the coming spring. At first, they didn't have a January or a February, because they didn't want to count winter. Later on, they decided to count the time to it, and the month was thus made.

It's not ALWAYS miserable - I won an award on a February once. But that's about it.

In my life the past decade, I notice that most of the tumult and disruptions I have lived through found roots on February. That, or the tough, chaotic times of my life happened around this time. My life is just weird around the time winter dies, and the warm air comes back to bother everyone in Manila. Maybe it's me getting grouchier with hotter weather, or if some forces are at work in my life, but somehow I am thrust into spots I don't like on this month.

And it's not always about being bitter on Valentine's Day either. I've gotten sick, and have had painful injuries on February. I've lost a job (resigned from work) on a February. I've flunked exams and gotten my schoolwork crash and burn in failures on February. I had to survive some of the toughest build-ups to a traditional March graduation on February months. I had to be a hero in group projects, be a quiet team player at work, be the villain to get things done when nobody wanted to on months people are too focused on other things. I've lost bets on Hollywood awards season on these months. I watch my beloved Arsenal FC get torched during these months, the months when the optimism that filled me in winter gives way to shocking reality of underachievement. I even parted ways with one of my favorite pets, Dimitri, the adorable Lhasa Apso-Shih Tzu halfbreed, entrusting him to someone else, but effectively giving him (and all my love) away.

I had to watch one of my dreams disappear into vapor on a February. I was once offered a shot at starting a batch for Days with the Lord, and I was asked to be its leader, the Rector. I said yes. And as the ball got rolling I watched people's support for it die, and I never got to be Rector again. It was a dashed dream that stings to this day.

I had to spend one Valentine's Day consoling a crying friend over a heartbreak (yep, it had to fall on my lap). I spent one one year with no plans, and me WISHING and PRAYING that I'd have WORK, just so I had something to do. But no - this is February, when (depending on your life) most people around you won't focus on work because they're sentimental, or they'll focus on it so much, you'll have nothing to preoccupy yourself with, or distract your mind.

Heck, I spent one Valentines Day in JAIL. It was a project I had to do with my law classmates. We had to shoot video and interview people, and BARELY make it back in time for class. We were tired, sleepy, and as soon as I got home I still had to edit the stock footage we took. That's what I did with the evening.

And yes, I've had my heart broken on February. Over and over and over again, I've lost count how many now. It's been broken by more than enough girls, some of whom have broken it multiple times, too. (And no, it's not their fault I get hurt - don't hate them please.) I've seen promise, hope, laughter and joy on the month of Valentine's Day, and every year the past 26 years of my life I've watched it crumble and ebb into the wind. All the effort, hope and care that I put into showing someone special how I feel goes to naught, as the girl finds someone new, or decides I'm not worth keeping, or both, and it just the way it is - I get miserable this time of the year.

What's worse? How about being miserable when everybody else is happy? I mean, right here at home, my parents celebrate their birthdays on the 3rd and the 10th of the month. It segues into Valentine's Day, when the people everywhere I see are loved, and I'm the ostrich with his head in the sand.

For me? This year, if the way the month started is any indication, is no different. I mean, I think it's safe to say I have reason to be unhappy for how my own life has transformed: single, working hard, and still finding myself hungry for more, and not being satisfied never mind others have it so much tougher. I have many friends who don't seek my company. I had to walk away from something special with someone I love so deeply and passionately, just so something better can bloom for them, even if deep down I know the situation really kinda bites for me.

It does not help that I am spending more days home alone, because my family hardly sleeps here at our home-base house anymore. It's as if my life is just... not all together now.

Yet just this afternoon I had conversations with two friends who said they were just so happy. And you could hear it: they were single, busy with life, not looking for a date on Valentine's Day, and just so fulfilled with their families and friends and existence.

It makes me confused and frustrated, being unable to say why I can't be as happy as they are.

It's not always about romantic love. That's not in my immediate control. What sucks is how underappreciated I feel now. If there's any one thing I miss about being someone's better-half-but-not-quite-yet, is how I was missed. How I was sought out. How someone, even just one person, wondered where I was, and made the effort to seek me out and choose to spend another day with me.

It's February and without anybody to share my days with, I feel so alone, useless, and unnecessary. It sucks, and to be honest, it's taking all that I can muster to stay strong all alone.

This will pass. Thankfully, the month also has the least number of days. I just hope something nice comes to my life soon. Or, if some miracle, someone crashes into my life soon. I still fantasize, after all, that I could spend the 14th with someone significant, an innate knowledge that all the frustrating months I've had being miserable on the second month of the year... well, I just want it to be worth it. That'd be enough.

But this year? Hmph.