As Time's hands, Life's feet, and I converge.

When the going gets tough, the tough get going.

"Why is love intensified by absence?"

Perhaps, Clare has been very feminine and she waits all longing for her Henry, not only because she has her assurance, but maybe also because that is simply loving. And that is beautiful.

I admire her, for being there; it is very nefarious to know that someone you love is wandering, somewhere out of time, and on the other timeline he is dead. And he is your husband. And he told you to wait and just wait, double your age now perhaps.

But I do not believe that Clare is just a sick, crazy woman who loves the oblivion - and sleep, and will not get over someone.

She is tough enough to be living with her child whose face keeps on reminding her Henry. Prior to, Clare is brave already just to wait for two years before she meets Henry when she can go out at the age of 18, and then not when time came, Henry did not remember her at all (but of course, you have to read to understand). And, most of all, to be accepting his enormously enraging genetic disease, what is known in the future as Chrono-Displacement.

While the going gets tough, she is tough to get going. One thing to be admired.

I inevitably started this blog post with a quick overview of The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger, I have recently finished reading. And in the midst of these threadlike strings that is the wool of my brain, it has dawned on me that I can actually relate the heart-wrenching plot of the book into the excerpt/quote, going to be elucidated minutes after reading this, maybe. Being tough, or brave, to do something that can almost break your heart - the path of life has been very harsh, and someone can continue walking on it - an inspiring epitome.

My heart stops pumping, almost real. I cannot concentrate. Perhaps, my fingers have their own mind, and they have decided to stop holding the pen, to write whatever I am thinking, and that is sufficient and fit for the theme indicated for the certain 'gala' I am competing. I am on the verge of lament; I am already dumbfounded and cannot think of anything at that moment.

Miraculously, in the deep depths at the back of my mind, is a memory: my jaded, stained, life. Once in a while people do something they would regret doing, like Isagani of El Fili, saving wicked people, and then even asking why has he done that? And my memory once again made me feel horrible, made me reminisce that time I regret the most, tried to forget with all effort, and endeavored to start by forgiving myself with. An honest mistake, an honest mistake I will, maybe, bring with me to adulthood, by that time maybe a few will remember, including me.

Fortunately, this shame I am clung onto, is what I just needed all along. The topic; someone who made a mistake and how did he even end up feeling fulfilled or something. My thought; just the right thing to write. If it hadn't been for my mischief, what would I write? If it had not been me, then I will not end up standing. If it hadn't been for me, and my silly self, and my perseverance to still get through the day after that horrible, stained experience, forgetting people who had stepped on me, and those who laughed at a mistake, where would I be now?

I am repetitively engaged in a new self, still trying to ponder where would I put myself in this world, trying with all mind to think whether I should keep going; a day-by-day process - and everyone gets through it, too. And the obvious answer is, everyone should keep going even when that certain going is the free void.

I am one of the people who can endure, and survive, smiling.

I feel myself as both Clare, and Henry; Clare of the present that is me going to walk the path of life until I see Henry - myself as who I am supposed to be, the future me. When the going gets tough, the tough get going, I may say to myself.

Do me a favor, to the one who can read this, promise that in the near future, we'll say that.

On the last two pages written: Clare and Henry met; Clare is 82, Henry is 43. He time-traveled. And it seemed fulfilling, enchanting to having read that. I felt the need to say this. I hope it can decode your goal, too.

Math - it's really a complicated thing.

I will definitely cherish this. I know I will. After all, I was the audience. I am not going to sweat at all. And finally, for the first time in my tragically written high school life, I enjoyed Math.

Although, this one is disappointing for that matter - I didn't do the solving and all, that's why.

It was Math Festival, I must tell you.

I might exaggerate things, so before I can tell what I have witnessed on stage, this is a warning. If you don't want some embellished words, then so be it.

Our stage was filled not only with people but also anticipation for what is in store. And as we start with the proclamation of some unrelated thing (King and Queen of Science), it was again time to appreciate the power of Math, yadda yadda... Then I realized that I cannot recount the events that had happened the morning because I was too busy laughing at what's on stage... except that Pam and Morris sang on stage as a number.

But I guess the morning part did not really serve as important. It was some kind of introductory part, therefore, the afternoon part was the main event. But I am going to tell you what happened before it.

Summer and I were wandering around the school looking for Migs, when we saw the Juniors' representative for Math Trail. I am trying so hard to keep on following them - I really am excited with trails and all, but I had no luck.

Quiz bee. Every contestant was under pressure, I think. I was also under pressure that time. But in due time I went away, I don't want to spoil myself - I'd rather have my classmates Eula, Shane and BJ (our representatives) to tell me personally, rather than I would know myself. If they won, then instantly I would greet them. If they lose, then it would be very fine. I could not have participated better.

They lost. But I really didn't care about their place anymore. I know they're very smart.

So, in the advent of another collaborative event in the afternoon, The Math Jingle competition happened. Singing Mathematician happened. Ginoo and Binibining Sipnayan happened. I was very overjoyed with all of them. I can see the biggest smile from Migs, as well as the eyes of Kit, confirming a delighted joy.

So, in Math Jingle. Jirah was the leader, of course, and I have a pretty good feeling they'll win this. And from the looks of it, I was halfway right. Juniors' performance ate my sadness away, and then I bet on it they'll win. The Seniors were a great threat, though.

Up next, Singing Mathematician. Ryiel, a qualified confidant, was picked for the contest. He sings very well, perhaps you can compare it to Alexander Max Band ( I recommend you listen to Only One and Take Hold of me, and Tonight they're the best I've heard). Yeah, as a friend, there's a part of me that loved it because I'm a friend and the jealous part that wished I had a voice like that. Nevertheless, when he sang... well, the results were pretty erratic.

Then, Ginoong Sipnayan. I really don't want to talk about this... all the more elaborate. I am pretty much bitter because of Jamich. Well, if you talk about Jamich at school they'll say Jam and Michael. But when it comes to me, I only remember Jamvhille and Paoline ( I saw them personally - they're kind of celebrities, uh-huh.)

So, everything turned out fine. As expected, Michael almost got everything except popularity, and Jam went 1st runner up. The former said was proclaimed Ginoong Sipnayan. And although it somehow did not concern my thoughts anyhow, I felt proud, knowing they're both cool and juniors.

As for Math Jingle, I guess every junior was dismayed when Seniors got the title, Juniors went as second. And for the Singing Mathematician, Ryiel was third. Nice try, but I know he can sing so much better.

For the supplementary contests; Jazzel landed third place in poster making (She's absolutely perfect; who in juniors could have done better?), Quiz bee was mentioned a while ago, and the Math Trail - Juniors went last. Oh, and SUDOKU! Joseph turned out to be second place. I admire him for that; I never finished any puzzle.

So that's pretty much how our one-day Math Festival, on November 29, 2011, Tuesday, (Happy birthday, Jestine, I missed you then; why did you get sick?!) ended. Mathematicians rock and roll, and everything turned out fine. I told you I remember this. Thank you very much.

But seriously? I don't get high grades in Math. My averages for the first two grading periods were both 92. So, don't expect me to join Math-related stuff of contests. Ugh.

Whatever. Just solve Algebra to really feel what I feel. Because honestly, I don't know what I feel for this event, too. I am not even sure if this is something of a worthwhile event. But this is good, really good. So help me stop telling anything more.

Okay.

More than an allegorically-written epistle.

My dearest nymph,

I have always accounted you as my inspiration. You never knew me at all, except maybe in the name of 'Ian'. Yes, I was the one who gave you those roses when you and your fiancé instantly broke up - remember the pink roses on your balcony?

My lovely nymph, he promised you the valleys, fields, the mountains. He tried to give you a bed of roses, in a lovely gown and fair lined slippers. That's too much - if someone could not be possibly overwhelmed. But did he succeed? Not to disparage your ex, but doing such an awful horror is not to be practiced under my observations. Such colossal mistake on you I cannot take. I will not let you suffer; moreover, offer you all what I can give. I am not perfect; nevertheless my dear, who is?

Heed my advice, put him aside. I know it will take time - you loved him so much that it ached, am I right? But if you would just give me that special space in your heart I have always wanted to stay in, if you would just! Then I guess that's the point of no return. That's the time when I am to work on your affection.

I am an avid fan of your life. You sing. You dance so gracefully. I swear even when dusk has to come, I won't ever impede myself from being impressed. And by that moment I will still be very vocal until you almost get irritated by my voice that just repetitively said one thing in common; you are the most beautiful thing that ever happened to me.

Perhaps in the future, when we are old enough, I foresaw tempests will come and separate us. If ever tempests come, you just wait. In the interim, hold a picture of us and reminisce all that has been memorable. By the time your done, you'll glimpse on me by the edge of that picture, smiling at you before a sunset scene. This I promise you, my words will turn into acts.

Although my pocket has worn no cash, and that my hands are full of grease instead of glittering gold, my mind is full of you and no other woman. My heart shouts your name and not any other's.

Can you see us getting married? Because I do not care about that anymore. Since after we're married is a more important thing; and I want us to live in a very quiet place along the seashore - although it is elevated. I do not pretend to be a hopeless romantic, it just so happened that my heart outpours in extravagant joy each time I see you. We will dance with our sons and daughters that learned only the good. We will live in somewhat paradise, only we have to live with an end.

Our youth will never last, why, tomorrow or next decade I might get white hair already, and who knows maybe death would come so fast. But until then, I promise you, we're going to be the happiest couple you're ever going to imagine. We will... be... in its own way, happy.

That's all I can promise you, my nymph. I love you, and it will mark us forever. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I will never stop loving you.

Ian