Junes are times for breaks. Moments where most can finally take a breather and truly enjoy life for a bit. Summer breaks are relatively the longest, I suppose? At least that is how it is where I live.
Don't forget the fact that this Gemini-Cancer season, many notable leaders were born (though they appear to be more on the Gemini sides). Come to think of it, Geminis are indeed cheerful, communicative, and charming. They know how to drive things the way they aspire them to be; and this is not always a negative thing.
But let's just skip the horoscopes and signs and whatnot. We need to talk about June itself. June can be said the checkpoint of a year. June tells you that you're half-way finishing the year. The perfect time for people to really reflect on how they have spent the last six months of the year and decide if they have to restrategize so all the remaining times won't turn to waste.
June is also supposed to be the perfect time to get hitched. Many weddings happen in June. Perhaps it's due to the perfect weather. Or back to the very first argument, it's where people are most vacant from their mundane work.
I used to think that I love June. Would not that be obvious, considering I was a part of the June community?
I share birthdays with these ((awesome)) people, like Lana Del Rey (before she made that controversial ignorant posts), Soekarno (before he turned into a narcissist), Benazir Bhutto (before she got killed), Jokowi (before he got terribly hated on). I mean, what could possibly go wrong with June?
Surprise, surprise. As I am writing this, I am laying on my bed, with the laptop literally on top of my lap (yes, just one lap while the other one established a strong footing). My head and neck hurt from the weird and awful position of the pillow (that I cannot bother to fix), and I have been replaying the same playlist three times now--I am specifically listening to Renee Olstead's version of Through The Fire. I would have to be honest that I believe her version is a lot better than Chaka Khan's. It sounds more intimate to me--wait, nevermind. The song has now changed into SALES' Chinese New Year.
Wait, where was I? Ah, right. Surprise, surprise. I am now writing on how much I loathe this month.
Not sure how it all started, but I remember always feeling rather down and odd on my birthdays. Not all, of course, I remember moments when I got to celebrate with my family. Mom and Dad gave me cool CDs about the story of Muslim prophets (those were good, one of the earlier clay movies back in the days that I recollected). Or the first time (and the only time so far) I got to celebrate it with a boyfriend (who got me my first rose). Or when my crush at the time got me my first bouquet (while being aware that I liked him) along with the troubles we both had caused for the delivery guy.
Okay, some of them were actually great.
But nevertheless, I remember that one birthday when friends I considered closest didn't show up at all despite Mom's effort to cook two big batches of pasta, just because I had my period and we had to cancel the waterpark birthday celebration. Or when a similar event occurred in my high school time. Or times when I woke up sick after the whole staycation fiasco. Not many birthdays ago, I had to go through depression due to a dysfunctional team for a competition I barely understood (with only one person to hold on to, out of four other people in the team), and ended up losing after all. Many other things that happened in June, though not particularly on my birthday, have left me with a distaste for it.
I am aware that there is this pattern, that I am most bitter in particular months, including--and especially--June. Some of my most intense nights crying happened in June. June usually ends on a sour note for me.
As always, I try to analyze why. This overthinking trait of mine, I guess. I just want to make logic of things that have happened to me. Why do I hate June? Why can't I love and celebrate this moment as I should have?
The only explanation that came up to me was that I have always had too many expectations in June. I have been hopeful that I would have a blast on my birthday, that things I want to achieve--my goals, aspirations, plans--all could be realized by this time of year. I expect people dear to me can be there for me. I expect to do something somewhere the way I want it to for it. And all these expectations arise since I kind of have more time to do so.
I have also considered my lack of gratitude for it. I, perhaps, have wished too much that I ignore all the blessings I have in front of me, within my hands and reach, that may be more than I initially deserved. I overlook good things that have happened to me--my health, a complete set of family, and other socio-economic privileges.
However, I could not deny the pain my own thoughts have brought me over the past few years. Sometimes I don't exactly know what I want and it also frustrates me as much. I have always been scared of losing. Losing people, losing some kind of momentum, and all other good things. I sincerely want to feel happiest, but the series of events that led me to it, combined with my bitter soul have corrupted June in many possible ways.
I don't think this year will bring much difference. I had set many goals to fulfill this year. Big things I never expected to be within my reach. I had carefully planned it all. But then the pandemic took most away, but I prevailed. I tried to look for the silver linings and just moved on with life. I did well so far, at least until May ended.
June came along and I am now faced with hurdles of insecurities and (almost) regrets. I haven't touched my thesis again for two days now, though I plan to finish before my birthday. My mind is occupied by things that are supposed to be complementary, and I fear that Mom's concerns will come true. I have been stressed out of the outcome of my projects--which don't look that good at the moment--where they involve quite substantial people I don't want to lose trust from.
I have been getting back those old stomach cramps I would suffer from every time I stress out. I remember that even teachers in middle school thought I was making my pain up. But I really did have those cramps. Followed along by skin rashes as always. I honestly wish that the next few weeks could just be skipped, or I could have this week-long hibernation at least until my birthday ends.
Hell, I have planned to bake my own cake. I bought the equipment. I wanted to feel happy and content. But I start to doubt that I could even breathe on my birthday. I even wish that it would not be my birthday. I have been crying too tonight, but I am sad.
I just wanted to point out that I am trying to be grateful, to always stay happy, to always count my blessings. I am trying to look past my expectations. I am trying--and that's the bottom line, that's what is important. But for now, at least tonight, I decided that I don't like June. Maybe I'll change my mind--as I am a Gemini with heavy Cancer traits after all. But hey, I don't have to like it tonight.
Now as Renee Olstead's render is back on playing, I have finally come to a full circle. I honestly just wanted to write it to channel all the fidgets I have. It kinda works, actually. My heart rate has slowed down. I can feel the blood rushing back to my feet. I think I'll cry a bit more just to make sure.
I'll try to sleep on my despise of you, June. Don't worry.
Good night, everyone, except for June!
-A.G.
