January 19

I might still be in the Philippines for my birthday, after all. It turns out that I will only be ineligible for migration if I am 21 by the time the interview at the embassy is held. As it is, I can go to the interview before I turn 21 and still be here until the end of the second semester in 2009. I will, therefore, probably still be here to do something for the girl I'm obsessed with on her birthday.

Ah, yes. The whole idea of she and I having the same birthday. Let's just dwell on that. Let's just dwell on it for a moment. And let's ask questions of it. A good question, I guess, would be... WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT FRICKIN' MEAN?!

I am agnostic. I do not believe in stuff the explanations for which involve concepts of the supernatural. Heck, I don't believe in anything, which necessitates that I do not believe any thing to be impossible either. So while I do not believe that this whole phenomenon may involve concepts of destiny, God, Buddha, the stars, or holy macaronis ... well, I can't discount the possibility either.

It's too much of a coincidence. The first time I laid my eyes upon her, I felt a connection. As shitty as that sounds, let me explain. I've mentioned in one of my previous entries that her face is "right out of my childhood dreams." And this is not some sentimental joke. I think anybody who has ever heard of marriage or love has also had, at the back of his or her head, a vague picture of the "ideal" man or woman for him or her. Even if you do not believe that such a person exists, such a picture in your mind exists. And even if you meet a real person who looks like your "ideal" partner, he/she might not necessarily become your partner but his/her appearance will still appeal to you. It is that image that I'm talking about. When I first saw her, she looked exactly like my "ideal" woman. I did not feel struck by Cupid's arrow, or fall helplessly in love, or anything earth-shaking like that. Hell, no. I just liked her immediately because she looks like the girl I've always liked from my dreams. How often do dreams come true? I was just happy that one of mine did. That was why I tried to engage her in conversation right then and there. I wasn't hoping to be her boyfriend someday (yet), nor did I expect that my liking would escalate into an obsession. I just liked her. That was the connection.

And then things came one after the other. Everything about her just fascinated me. Her hair, no matter how she fixes it. Her fashion sense, which I think plays somewhere between conformity and deviance. The way she speaks, which is like the voice of a little girl speaking with all the confidence and authority of an independent woman. There is nothing in all of those things that connect her to me, but they just amaze me for no apparent reason. I want to know who she is. I want to know her beyond the face, beyond the deeds, beyond the looks, beyond the psychology. I want to know who she really is. I want to know her to her soul. I want to know why I feel so drawn to her.

And, of course, I mentioned in one of my previous posts that her two favorite poems were both by Edgar Allan Poe. Now, there's a long story about why I made a big deal out of that. But to cut it short, Poe is one of my favorite writers, after whom a large part of my poetry-writing style is modeled. And also, because reading him is like reading stuff that I had thought of by myself. And, not to mention, we were both born on January 19.

January 19! That explains a lot, doesn't it? She probably only likes Poe because she found out they have the same birthday as well! There's nothing supernatural about it! Right?

Well, that IS highly possible, yes. But, in order for her to give a damn about Poe, she would have to be interested in literature in the first place. Why couldn't she have just liked James Watt - also born on Jan.19 - and become an inventor or something? And that's another thing we have in common: we're both interested in literature. And even if she is interested in literature, there are other authors and poets born on January 19 like Julian Barnes, Nina Bawden, Rex Ingamells. Why, among all these people, did she have to choose Edgar Allan Poe to like? Why did she have to choose as I did, considering that there were also all those other authors for me to choose from? And why, oh why, did I have to fall for her of all people?

Of course, trying to interpret the whole phenomenon of the two of us being interested in literature and specifically Edgar Allan Poe doesn't end there. But whatever explanations we have, we'll keep bringing up the fact that she has the same birthday as Poe, and that I have the same birthday as well - which, by the way, is the focus of this post. So let's get back to that.

Why, in the first place, do we even have the same birthday? We can explain liking for Poe in psychological terms. We can explain my fascination with the little things about her as having its basis on my "ideal" woman image. We can explain our having revolutionary thoughts as a tendency for a certain subset of the generation of which we are both parts. We can explain how we have come to make those decisions as influenced by external factors. But we did not decide to choose our birthdays. No external factors could have influenced that. It can't be explained in psychological terms. It can't have its basis on my imagination. It couldn't have been a societal tendency. The only way to explain it is that it was just brought about by coincidence. And, like I said, it's too much of a coincidence.

Do not get me wrong, though. I'm not saying that we are "meant to be", or a "match made in heaven". No crap like that. In fact, if anything, given our present circumstances I perceive us as not meant to be, or if we are a match made anywhere it must've been in hell. Yes, that's it. We must've done some bad things in our past lives (or past life? Maybe we used to be one soul manifested as Poe) that merit punishment. Her punishment, it seems, is to be the unfortunate girl I would be obsessed with. I, on the other hand, am sentenced to living under all these illusions of such a "connection" existing only to be regularly slapped in the face with the fact that she and I will never be together.