The events of my days are wrapped into cardboard boxes and kept in the corner of my mind. The dates scribbled haphazardly as if I had no time to hide them. Of course, I did not have any time! Before they even happened, people asked you how things went. There wasn’t a moment to spare. You had to be nimble and preserve things before they even had a chance to ask anything and ruin them. My need to protect all I can from this life, for not sharing anything besides the bare minimum and the irrelevant but comical or jocular, has had an overgrowth. Now, all my life hides obscured by grass no one has mowed in years, intentionally. The best way to protect things from people is in plain sight, right in front of their eyes, and under their noses.
You tell them all your days look the same, but no two days are truly alike; there are subtle differences, but you do not reveal them. You omit them like a letter hidden between the neatly folded handkerchiefs in the almirah drawer. You tell them nothing worth telling has happened lately, even if a lot has happened lately. You only tell them it is nothing worth telling. It has already happened, and all you feel about it has been felt. Why open it to scrutiny or, worse, misunderstanding? Ever so often, excitement transforms into confusion when someone completely misses the point. People come with their ideas, opinions or whatever else they come with; it is better to tell them a joke than tell them things. You laugh and have a good time. No harm is done, and you still like them when they leave. And sure, this may incur some loss. There are always those who want to listen and celebrate or mourn with you, whatever goes, but their numbers dwindle as you move forward in life. No one needs to be privy to your life. At best, they deserve your disposition, which you can keep cheery by looking at the world often.
The rest goes as it does. Years pass, and no one knows the battles you fight or your greatest victories; it is all kept close to your heart, safe and unadulterated. You can remember things and feel exactly how you felt when they first happened. You look at the view from your balcony; you don’t miss a thing.