The Dream That Is

A baby.

I always dream to bear a child of my own.

Ever since I was a toddler, I often pictured myself as someone who’s older enough, nursing and cuddling a beautiful, bouncing baby girl I would name Cassandra.

I would dress her with a pink lacey gown with soft ruffles and put pink satin ribbons on her curly mane. I would tuck her in bed, tell her stories of princes and princesses and elves and fairies until she falls soundly asleep. Every morning, we would take walks together and I would show her the world around her.

Such a wonderful dream!

Yet, I really do not know how motherhood could have been lovelier–until then.

It was pleasant to remember that used to be within my womb is a tiny speck of miracle who, supposedly, could have been blooming and growing these days.

But perhaps, it’s sad that my baby have to come at a wrong time.

Wearily, I dropped my head, both forgetting the hideous white mask this small room is wearing and regretting the things I have just done.

As I shut my eyes, I heard again my own voice tearing the silence of the past.

“Lorenzzz.”

Lorenz, my boyfriend, was atop my naked body. While his rigorous pumps went faster and harder, he clung more tightly unto my body while running his tongue on my naked skin.

“Tart… Keith…”

And I felt him exploded into invisible pieces inside me.

“Lorenzzz… wait up…” Another spurt from him and he was lying on his back beside me.

“Hey, Keith are you okay? What are you staring about?” he asked me after a while, I can barely hear him behind the monotonous hum of the A/C.

The buzzing seemed to get louder against the stillness. The cold numbly bite on my flesh yet, it nudges me to finally speak.

“I’m afraid, Lorenz, maybe, I’m actually more scared than what I can say. We should have not gone this far,” I whispered a few minutes after, the chilling cold around the room,  the thing that just happened between us and the fears building up within me all sent my voice to quiver.

“Ssh…”

“What if Dad learned about this? What if I end up just like Leslie?” Leslie was a classmate who had dropped out from school last semester after she got pregnant. “I don’t want that to happen to me.”

“Keith, stop fuzzing. Stay calm, okay. ‘No need to be scared,” Lorenz indifferently uttered.

He was alternately toying again with my peaks.

“But, Lorenz…” I felt electrified as I respond to his touch.

“I said, don’t worry. Just take those pills I’ve given to you, okay? They can help us,” he said, convincing me.

He, then promptly lowered his head unto my chest.

PERHAPS, HE IS RIGHT.

MAYBE, I CAN TRUST HIM, HE’S BEEN AROUND, I thought foolishly then.

At nineteen, so much was expected from me.

In fact, my dad’s anticipating that I would also be a good lawyer someday. That’s why he was that kind of strict.

It was really easy to please him until one day, during the school’s foundation anniversary, I met Lorenz, a good-looking junior from another Law school.

Eventually, he invited me for a date. It was followed by another date and another one. And after sometime, I ended sleeping with him.

And of course, Dad knew nothing.

Even my recent last visit to the OB clinic has been a secret. Though, I never thought that the obstetrician would later confirm what I still doubt earlier.

“Your tests came back positive, Miss Vialez,” the OB eagerly announced, not knowing her words were like bombs to my ears. I never thought that she would confirm what I still doubt earlier.

Foolishly, I tried to believe that getting pregnant was something that happened to other girls, not me.

Not me, I am sure of that.

Not me, not yet.

However, when I started missing a couple of periods, I began to panic.

Chaos of fears and confusions reeled in my mind. I even didn’t know how to react exactly—to be delighted or to be anxious. Of course, it my dream to be a mother, but not now.

But what shall I do?

“Why don’t we try the doctor suggested by my friend?” Lorenz softly implied on the phone. I’ve just called him and told him about the baby. “Owen said that doctor knows how to help people like us and he only asks a little payment.”

“Who’s doctor? What do you mean… are you saying…? Are you saying that you want to abort our baby? How dare you think about it?” I drawled at him.

I no longer mind his cold reaction about my condition but the idea that he just implied enraged me.

“Tart, we have no other choice…”

“But not abortion. Not that one. It’s no different than murder, Lorenz. I could not allow anyone to kill my own child.”

“Keith, you’re not thinking, are you? You’re going to have a baby, yet, we are too young to be his parents. Tell me, what do you know about taking care of a kid?”

Then, why didn’t we think of these things before, I wanted so much to shout at him, but I might not have the will to do so.

“You told me that’s it going to be okay. You said the pills will help us.”

“If only you have been careful.”

“I’ve skipped only once.”

“Damn, Keith, look what happened? What do you think we will do next? Sit on our damn ass? Relax while waiting for that baby to come out and make our lives more miserable?” he sharply said.

“Please, Lorenz, stop blaming me.”

“Okay, okay, just think about what I’ve said. Not our best option, but it will do us good.” Lorenz reminded before the dial tone went on.

I thought hard, cried and tried to make some sense out of his words; and there really isn’t.

Abortion.

How could he ever think of abortion when we are talking of our own child?

Maybe it was just sad that my little Cassandra had to come too soon. I wonder, DOES SHE EVER FELT UNWELCOMED AND UNLOVED?

OH, IF ONLY I HAVE BEEN BRAVE FOR HER.

But, I have been alone and very confused during those times.

That a week after that phone call, I found myself lying helplessly on that narrow coach untidily covered with a yellowish cloth.

Somewhere outside that room, I heard Lorenz talking with someone. Then, a man in white robe entered and gave me two pricks of injection and went out, leaving me alone again.

After almost an hour, I just felt a stinging pain down my lower abdomen as if a hundred big pins were piercing it.

Afterwards, it gradually lessened, but later returned.

The intensity of the pain was much greater then – it seemed a steel belt was being tightened and twisted around my waist.

“Aaarghh… Lorenz… it hurts.” I cried out, wishing at least he could hear me.

Moments passed, I was already panting and soaked.

I was beginning to be totally scared, when a man in white came in and gave me another shot of injection.

Maybe, fear of what shall happen next, I just closed my eyes against the gleaming lights.

The pain was still there when the man started to work on my lower body with a cold instrument. As he moved it in and out between my legs, shiver crept my spine painfully.

I COULD NO LONGER REMEMBER HOW LONG IT LASTED UNTIL I FELL ASLEEP AND DREAMT THAT MY BABY HAD WAILED HARD, FOUGHT HARD TO LIVE, BUT I, MYSELF, HER OWN MOM, REFUSED TO EMBRACE HER.

MY POOR ANGEL, I KNOW SHE’S GONE.

Then, a few days after we had gone from that concealed clinic, I was suddenly experiencing cramps, but suspected nothing about it, I just ignored it.

Then, immediately the following day, there was just a terrible, severe pain; and later, continuous bleeding.

The blood just won’t stop.

I was scared as hell with the sight of the scarlet blood and the recurring horrors of the abortion in my mind that perhaps, I had finally passed out.

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Image by  JackMcIntyre on Deviant Art

When I opened my eyes, I was already inside this white, neat room. I heard two fuzzy, distant voices from somewhere.

I tried to move but I was so exhausted and drained.

The voices outside continued murmuring—might be of my dad and the attending doctor. From the torrent of their words, I could only sense a few.

“Failed to remove other products of conception…

infections…

serious complications…

hemorrhage…

hysterectomy…

sterility…”

THE HORRORS OF ABORTION, INDEED.

My head seems spinning; nevertheless, I try to sit on my bed, looked outside the dull night.

The moon, dumb and bright has just risen over some distant mountains, while I remained where I was slumped, musing.

I try to believe that one of the million shimmering sparks of lights up there is my own little star. My own little baby whom I snuffed out the chance to see the rays of the sun.

She would never even blow her pink little candles or wear her pink ribbons.

“Cassandra, my sweet darling, you do not deserve me for disowning you, but I wish that you’ll still smile upon me from way up there. Whenever sorrow and regret haunts me, may you always be there to happily shine light to the darkness of my nights.”

PERHAPS, MY MOURNING FOR MY BABY WHOM I NEVER KNEW SHALL LAST A LIFETIME.

Tears start forming on my eyes—tears for losing Cassandra and all the lost babbling babies I would have had.

My dream of bearing and rearing my own children shall always be a mere and lifeless dream.

A dream.

A baby.

It’s all gone.

(End)

A photo showing a little girl in red standing alone on a beach.
Image by Danielle MacInnes on Unsplash

 

Copyright © terradegramm 1994

All rights reserved.

This short story is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

 

 

Forlorn

“She is all of this mixed up and baked in a beautiful pie. She is gone, but she used to be mine.” (Sara Bareilles)

Odd. I search for some fitting words to describe this vacuum-like feeling within me. And this beautiful song found me.

Guess, I will never get over this poignant song.

It’s as if it was written for me. It tells about what my crutch hides. What I’d been wearing for so long.

It revealed the lies that I have been so scared to admit to even myself. It made me confront all the fears that I allowed to walled up high around me, separating me from others.

For many years, I stood on my own but now, I can no longer see that determined girl whenever I face the mirror. The fire in her eyes has vanished. And too bad, I can no longer go back to her.

Yet, for such a long time, I have tried to convince myself that all is fine. That love and motherhood will finally define healing and happiness. It is just enough.

Well, it isn’t.


SHE USED TO BE MINE

It’s not simple to say
That most days I don’t recognize me
That these shoes and this apron, that place and its patrons
Have taken more than I gave them
It’s not easy to know
I’m not anything like I used be, although it’s true
I was never attention’s sweet center
I still remember that girl

She’s imperfect, but she tries
She is good, but she lies

She is hard on herself
She is broken and won’t ask for help
She is messy, but she’s kind
She is lonely most of the time
She is all of this mixed up and baked in a beautiful pie
She is gone, but she used to be mine

It’s not what I asked for
Sometimes life just slips in through a back door
And carves out a person and makes you believe it’s all true
And now I’ve got you
And you’re not what I asked for
If I’m honest, I know I would give it all back

For a chance to start over and rewrite an ending or two
For the girl that I knew

Who’ll be reckless, just enough
Who’ll get hurt, but who learns how to toughen up
When she’s bruised and gets used by a man who can’t love
And then she’ll get stuck
And be scared of the life that’s inside her
Growing stronger each day ’til it finally reminds her
To fight just a little, to bring back the fire in her eyes
That’s been gone, but used to be mine
Used to be mine

She is messy, but she’s kind
She is lonely most of the time

She is all of this mixed up and baked in a beautiful pie
She is gone, but she used to be mine

© Music and Lyrics by Sara Bareilles

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Image by Toia Montes de Oca on Unsplash

In response to the Daily Post – Daily Prompt Forlorn 

A Part of Me

What we have enjoyed we can never lose. All that we love deeply becomes a part of us.

– Helen Keller

That’s it! I have done several attempts already—to write the layout for my story.

Those were the nights when the kids were already fast asleep. The silence is too tempting not to scribble a few lines.

I know this is my time now. I have waited for this for quite so long. Nuon pa nga, I have the only dream of having my own typewriter to be able to write.

And years passed, it was an aspiration tossed aside from many occurrences.

I grew up, went out of my comfort zone, and confront the world. I took the risk of opening myself and falling in love several times. I have borne my children. Travel to very few places. I have been happy and then, also hurt over again.

But the dream lives on. I still wanted to write.

I never stop wanting to see my own book published one day. And that one day, I guess, it is going to happen soon—no matter what.

But as I sit in front of my Lenovo, as I struggled to lay down one heck of a layout for my story, I can’t think of anything else.

And it went on for several nights already. Then, a friend, upon listening to me, said that why I do not write about something that I like. Or about someone that I like to be.

Seems like a piece of cake but it’s still hard to think what I do want.

As I dare myself to love in the past, I also opened myself to failures and pains. Sometimes, I cannot help not to be scared. Paano kung naubos na ako? What if I have given my all and I’m left with nothing within me to push me to write? What if I am already disillusioned and have stopped believing in the spark of love?

How can I write, then?

But, wait, this is not only about romantic tales, isn’t it?

Recently, my baby came. ‘Such a sweet, sweet bundle of joy to our little family.

Her partly-opened eyes when she’s asleep. Her curious (clueless) stares around her and her mischievous open-mouthed grins. How her ate and kuya is growing very fond of her each passing day.

These remind me that, yes, Life is actually all about love, no matter what.

Surprisingly, those simple love tales still curve a smile on my lips. Be it a story between couples or parents or children, it still melts my heart. That way, I know that my faith in the magic of love still remains in me. I cannot be left without anything, in spite of all those pains and mistakes.

It’s because I still have to realize my dream!

© 2012 M.C. Padilla
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Image: Alphabets-2518268__340 by rawpixel via Pixabay

Eyeball

The knowledge of how to give birth without outside interventions lies deep within each woman. Successful childbirth depends on an acceptance of the process.”  – Unknown

 

I felt mixed feelings then.

We have known each other for several months already. I kinda anticipated what it would be like, even prepared for it but when the time finally came to meet each other, it was still always a surprise, unexpected and yet, amazing!

Indeed, just like an “eyeball”*, meeting my children for the first time was quite overwhelming and memorable!


 

28th of August, 19**

6:00 a.m.

I have seen the sky from an opened window and lo, the sun was already rising then. I have been in that clinic for nine hours already. Hindi raw ako marunong “umiri”. Of course, it was my first time to give birth. But, actually, I was somehow afraid to do it. I was already tired and sleepy. Akala ko I would die if I will do it. Then, it happened! I breathe with all my might, and with a smooth swooosh, I felt her came out! Meryn Krystynn! It was all I remember, it was wonderful and really smooth like she just slide out of me, no pain and all. I have seen the doctor put her on my stomach and I just fainted. The next moment I opened my eyes, I was already all cleaned up and transferred to my room.

 


 

29th of November,20**

6:00 a.m.

All night I have been fussy and shamelessly noisy. The midwife and her assistant will leave me alone in the room and I will relish those times to shout the labor pains I was feeling then. Iri na ako ng iri nuon, even it was not the time to do it pa. The room was closed, but I was bothered by the wall clock in front of me. Counting the hours made time even slow. The midwife told me a number of times that she already see the baby’s head popping out. Naiinip na ako nuon, nasa isip ko lang ay “ang tagal naman!” Then, so it happened! Kerr Jared finally came out. But it was really painful, I actually felt myself torn in the wrong places. (They have not done any episiotomy to me, I’ve learned later.) I saw my son and all I remember was how red he was all over! (That’s how he gotten his name.) I thought it was finished and I was so ready to finally drowse off but the midwife told me that I can’t sleep yet. I still have to push out the placenta and I think, it was more painful than the actual childbirth.


 

8th of July,20**

2:00 a.m.

From 3 cm by 8:00 p.m., my cervix was opening by 1 cm each passing hour. The nurse attending to me taught me how to manage the increasing pains noiselessly. By the time, my OB arrived, everybody was all prepared and all set for the delivery. My OB and the nurses guided me how to do the breathings right. I think, after two previous childbirth,  “ngayon lang ako natutong umiri ng tama!” But after several tries, the baby was not yet out. I started to panic and to doubt myself if kakayanin ko. Thus, my OB decided to administer the anesthesia. In spite of two attempts to shift body positions, they got a hard time putting it because I was overweight—the needle seemed not long enough, but they’ve done it! My lower body felt very numb afterwards. Though I still feel the contractions, they were not as painful as before the anesthesia. They were also not as forceful. Kaya kasabay ng iri ko, the nurse was also pushing down on my stomach. Then, it happened! Tashina KariDee finally came out. “Iri pa ako ng iri nuon when my OB told me, “ok, tama na, lumabas na sya, at bilog na bilog”. I might really felt so numb then that I even have not actually felt letting her out! When the OB placed her on my stomach, I can’t help but cried. Indeed, she was big and beautiful!

 

“Birth”, as the word suggests, means the bestowing of some form of life by the nature, to this world. Being born is the purest virtues that can be held by a living being as after that one is exposed to life, where one can breathe, feel, have emotions, i.e. it’s in this world that these one is exposed to all such virtues. This is a state in which we consider the achievement of a new form of life. Birth should not always be linked to the birth of child, but it can also be the achievement of a new lifea new ray of hope, fresh ideas and a lot more.” – Unknown

 


 

© 2011 M.C. Padilla

*Eyeball – (Verb) Informal. to look at, check, or observe closely. (Noun) Close confrontation.

 

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Image by MaartenB on Pixabay.

 

Solo

Hindi isang simpleng responsibilidad ang maging isang single mother. Lalo na’t sa kailaliman ng pagkatao niya’y alam niyang siya ay isang traditional na ina.

“My heart is broken, but I am alive and he did that. And when you are alive, you feel pain. Those are the rules.”

(Jess Gradwell, from the TV series, Sex & Single Mom)

 Masyadong mahaba ang gabi. Maalinsangan. Tahimik. Isang paalala sa kaniyang pag-iisa ang kahungkagan ng gabi. Ang pag-iisang ito sa loob ng maliit na silid ay isang nakakalungkot na sensasyong bumabalot sa kanyang katauhan. Maaring ito’y isang kalungkutan sa tuwing darating ang gabi at mapapalingon siya sa bakanteng papag sa tabi niya. Minsan lamang sa isang linggo, ang kahoy na papag na iyan ay malayang kumakanlong sa kanyang munting anghel sa tuwing siya’y umuuwi pag OFF niya.

“I walk alone on this lonely path, wishing somebody would join me…yet, also, wishing there would be nobody around…”

Ngayon, ang daming naglalaro sa isip niya–ang kanyang kahapon, ang kanyang kasalukuyan at ang kanyang kinabukasan. Isa siyang single mother. Solo parent sa iilan. Disgrasyada kung patalikod na tawagin ng marami. Miinsan siya’y nagpakapal ng mukha para malampasan ang lahat ng panlilibak ng ibang tao at marahil, ang mga pagtatanong kahit mismo ng kanyang sariling pamilya.

Sa loob-loob niya, siya’y napaglaruan ng sinasabi nilang “pag-ibig”. Na-in love nga siya at halos ibigay ang lahat sa lalaking naging ama ng kaniyang anak. Pati’y sarili’y ipinagkatiwala niya sa tadhana; sa paniniwalang karapat-dapat ang lalaking iyon. Naniwalang nakatakda silang magkasama lagi bilang isang pamilya.

“Never presume that I could possibly encounter such time, such powerful, profound force that lately I just can’t evade; it draws on a different meaning to everything that stirs around…”

Ngunit kahit na-in-love pala siya’y, hindi rin siya makakatagal na maghintay sa isang pangakong sa umpisa pa lamang ay malabo na. Isang klasikong drug dependent ang ama ng kaniyang mga anak. Isang lalaking pinabulok ng droga ang mga ambisyon. Na-in-love siya dito at pilit pa ring pinapaniwala ang kaniyang sarili na malalampasan nila ang lahat.

Ngunit, naging mahaba ang mga gabi.

Madalas, siya’y isang pigura sa tapat ng pulang gate. Nag-aabang, nagbibilang, hindi lamang ng mga sasakyang manaka-nakang dumaraan sa kanyang harapan, kundi nagbibilang pati ng mga bituing inaasahan niyang kikislap rin sa langit niya pagkatapos ng mga gabing iyon.

“The night is mine…holding me…shielding me…hiding me…”

Ah, isa lamang iyon sa kaniyang pagkakamali noon. Kaya nang halos maramdaman na niyang isa-isa nang nawawala ang mga pinahahalagahan niya sa sarili–lalo na ang natitirang respeto–nagmamadali siyang nagbalot ng kanyang mga gamit at nilisan ang lalaking dati-rati’y kanyang sinamba.

“To rash barefooted, with the wind, bothering not of any hefty load or thought…”

Hindi isang simpleng responsibilidad ang maging isang single mother. Lalo na’t sa kailaliman ng pagkatao niya’y alam niyang siya ay isang traditional na ina. Kung maari nga lamang, mananatili na lamang siya sa tabi ng kanyang anak sa lahat ng oras–pero,imposible pang mangyari ito sa kasalukuyang set-up nila ngayon. May trabaho rin siyang dapat na unahin para sa kanilang kabuhayan.

Anyway, ilang taon na nga bang dinadala niya ang titulong ito? Isa? Dalawa? Apat na taon? Matagal na rin at kasabay halos ng pagsuko niyang harapin ang sunod-sunod na pagsubok, naiisip pa rin niyang isang araw, malalampasan rin niya ang lahat.

Mas’werte siya at may isang anghel ang ibinigay sa kanya na sa tuwina’y may handang sorpresa para sa ikakasiya niya. Oo, ngiti man o halakhak ng kanyang munti ay bonus na para mabuo ang isang araw niya.

“Each new morning rises up with your laughters fading in my mind…each new day reminds me of your unpretentious smiles, easing up life’s loneliness.”

Hindi nga naging madali ang maging isang single mom. Minsan naitatanong niya sa sarili kung choice ba niya ito o ito ay ang kanyang tadhana. Gugustuhin ba niyang maging isang single mother uli kung sakaling siya ang papipiliin ng kanyang buhay?

Alam niyang sa umpisa pa lamang, sa oras pa lamang ng pag-lalabor niya sa kanyang panganay, isang isolated na role na ang kaniyang gagampanan at pipiliting malampasang mag-isa. Pagkatapos noon, hindi niya akalaing darating din pala siya sa punto ng realisasyon.

Pilit niyang pinagtakpan ang bawat maling nangyari sa kaniya sa nakaraan. Iyon pala, pahiwatig lamang iyon ng sariling agam-agam niya sa nagawang desisyon ilang taon na ang nakaraan. Ilang beses niya ring inaalis sa isip na may kurot ng pagsisisi ang kanyang tuluyang pag-alis noon sa bahay ng ama ng kanyang anak.

“Only where this freezing pain can be eased, can be forgotten…again, drop a dime and wish that this infernal being would never be hurt again…”

Ngayo’y halos nakalimutan na niya ang kakatwang lamig ng dampi ng hangin sa tuwing siya ay inaabot ng madaling-araw sa pagtayo sa me pulang gate at nag-aantay sa pag-uwi ng lalaking iyon.

Ngayon halos kaya na niyang magtimpi at hindi lumuha sa tuwing pumapailanlang ang farewell notes ng isang kanta ni Lani Hall.

Ngayon, alam niyang tuluyan nang lumamig ang galit that almost explode her wits then. Ni hindi na niya makapa ang anumang bloke nito sa kaloob-looban ng kanyang kamalayan.

“This bruised heart’s little door just closed…shunning, evading, another love, another loss and maybe its death…”

Ngayon, nagawa na niyang lumimot at magpatawad. Nagawa na nga niyang malampasan ang paglimot sa isa lamang lalaki sa buhay niya. Ngunit, hindi niya inakalang ito at ang tuluyang pagtalikod na iyon ay magiging isang pagbubukas naman para sa mas maraming paghamon.

Mas madaming patibong na kaydaling aakit sa kanya kung gugustuhin lamang niya. Ngunit, may mga gabing napapabuntong-hininga pa rin siya at naiisip kung paano naman kaya sa bawat pagdadalawang-isip, sa bawat kalungkutan na naramdaman niya ay may bagong bisig na kakanlong sa kanya?

Noon, dumating siya minsan sa pagkakumahog para i-kunsidera halos lahat ng mga nakilala at umakyat ng ligaw sa kanya. Dumating na kasi siya sa puntong akala niya ay sawa o takot na siya sa pag-iisa. Na halos pinanabikan na niya ang mayakap at lambingin muli, tulad lamang ng ibang ordinaryong babae. Na kahit man lamang sa loob ng isang saglit, hindi niya kailangang magkunwari, that she’s unafraid to admit that after all, umiiyak pa rin siya.

“In different seasons, in distant zones, in every phases, in the least unexpected affairs, Life acquainted me to these sons of Adam.”

Ngunit, sadyang mali lamang talaga ang mga lalaking naka-relasyon niya noon. Mali–dahil iisa lamang ang kanilang hangarin –to have an affair with her– walang commitment, walang pagmamahal. Isang affair na madalas nag-uumpisa at natatapos rin mismo sa kanyang kama. Animo’y ang kanyang pagiging single mom ay isang hamon na dapat mapenetrate ng bawat human male specie. Ngunit, sabi niya uli, “malalampasan ko rin ito.”

Pakiramdam niya, bawat minuto ay isang pagsubok kung hanggang kailan niya panghahawakan ang determinasyon at huwag magpapatalo sa mga paghamon. Marami na rin ang nag-akalang mabibitag siya ng tuluyan sa kanilang front. Isang kakatawanan talaga, kasi pag napaniwala na siya sa panibagong pangako, saka siya maiiwan sa ere.

Pagkatapos ng isa, ilan pa silang kumatok upang muli siyang paniwalain, muling payakapin sa isang maling idelohiyang “kailangan ng mga babae ang mga lalaki.” Upang muling ipaalala sa kanya ang realisasyong matagal na niyang tinatanggihang tanggapin.

Minsan, dumating na ang bagong pagkakataon–ang special moment at ang special na tao na hinihintay niya. Saka lamang niya napagtanto na pagkatapos ng lahat, naging at home na pala siya sa pag-iisa at ramdam niya ang kakatwang takot na iwanan ang pamilyar na ambience nito –at marahil, pati ang independence na matagal-tagal na ring nagbibigay ng seguridad sa kanya.

At dahil sa tagal na rin na, mas pinili niyang isarado ang pag-ibig sa sistema niya. Bigla na lamang niyang naisip na hindi niya maipagkaiba ang simpleng infatuation from the deeper thing called “love”. Bigla, hindi niya mapagdesisyunan kung saan i-lulugar ang terminong “pag-ibig” sa kuwadradong buhay niya.

Na para bang ang anumang mga bagay na na-plano niyang mag-isa ay mawawalan ng kahulugan kung sakaling papayagan niyang pumasok muli sa kanyang tunay na mundo ang pag-ibig. Gayunpaman, pagkalipas ng mga taon, ang bawat oras ay ipinagpapasalamat na lamang niya. Nakalampas na nga siya.

 “Finally conquered the torrent of yesterday…beyond the shadows of pains, a woman of depth…a woman of courage finally, beautifully enfolds…”

Tama, ang mga taon ay naging lubhang mahalagang aral para sa kanya. Ang mga pagkatalo ay nagmarka na sa kanya.

Gayunpama’y alam niya na ang mga pagsubok at problema ay hindi pa tuluyang matatapos. Marami pa rin ang mga gabing magdadaan nang siya’y nag-iisa pa rin. Marahil, wala na ang dating kahungkagan. Maaring sa pagdaan ng mga taon ay nasanay na siya.

Marahil, maaring marami pa rin ang mga lalaking darating para siya’y umasa muli.

Ngunit, naniniwala siyang dadaanan na lamang niya ang mga ito. At lalampasan.

At muli, siya ay magpapatuloy pa rin.

“She faced the hardest times you could imagine. And many times her eyes fought back the tears. And when her youthful world was about to fall in; each time her slender shoulders wore the weight of all her fears and a sorrow no one hears. Still rings in midnight silence in her ears.”

(Excerpt from the song Wildflower)

 


 

© 2009 M.C. Padilla

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