Part of soul searching is unleashing the emotions, positive and negative. You can’t find your soul if you are not real with it. It’s the last stretch of my weekend, pretty much a time where I am entitled to do anything. I decided to get a good cry after so many days of being out of my element and out of the orbit. Not attributable to hormonal changes, these tears are wrought by something else. But I continue to be optimistic that this phase, just like many others in the past, shall pass and the rainbow is on its way pretty soon.
There are no outlines when you document grief. It’s just a whole mass of intense feeling where all the words go muddled with the tears streaming down your cheeks. Hello, Helen Mary Waterworks… I can actually rival Manila Water’s tanks at this rate…
It’s been three months since I ended a relationship that meant so much to me. And I cried so little the whole time. I have been busy with work and stuff that I actually managed to shove everything down. UNTIL last week, where I started acting weird and I knew I had to let this out somehow. It’s better to cry now than tomorrow, when I am at work and all those nasty tears will fall on the manuscript I am editing. I cannot afford to put tear stains on the Statistics and Integral Calculus projects I am working on, you know.
I officially document this moment that I am crying, because I want to REMEMBER this day very well. I am very good at forgetting the pain. I just have this eraser inside or something. It just does not register. I forget. And I believe I should not forget that there are still people who like to lure you into jumping off a cliff but they will later on leave you to smash your head in the rocks. Worse, they will laugh at you as you make a complete fool of yourself.
I am giving my sadness a face, a face that will haunt me and warn me in case I decide to put my foot in my mouth again sometime today or in the future. At least I will hesitate before I decide to risk my stupid self again.
This documented sad face is a result of me taking yet another risk for somebody who I thought was worth it. It’s a very painful situation. But this is a potent reminder to improve myself and make damn sure the decisions I will make in the future regarding opening myself up to certain people and things are worth all this trouble, pain and suffering. Otherwise, it’s best to shrug my shoulders and forget all about it.
Idealists abound. They always want to have a first and last love. I am genuinely happy for the ones who are able to pull that off and marry their first sweethearts. I find that really awesome and have such high respect for those who tell me about these inspiring stories. Who does not want that, right?
But you know what? People on their second, third, fourth, fifth, nth love, who had their hearts badly broken at one point or another in the past, are quite heroic in their own ways. They deserve props, too. You know why? Because in spite of the immense heartaches they have gone through, they still managed to risk themselves to get hurt over and over again. They give second, third, fourth, fifth, nth chances to the new person who offers the possibility of a love that lasts…
I don’t know how they do it. Heck, I don’t even know how I do did it…
So if you find yourself feeling insecure or insanely jealous of your loved ones’ past, be thankful instead. Because in spite of all the negative experiences, the emotional tsunamis that could have transformed him or her into a full-blown cynic, he or she actually took his or her chances with you. It means he or she thought you were worth all that risk, worth all that trouble of exposing one’s self again to the danger of puncturing the just-mended heart or shattering it to smithereens.
Oh, and so many people don’t know the vulnerability of the person who already had his or her heart mangled in the past. It’s like heading to the lion’s den after you have just lost your limbs from the same. And the friends and family of the person who repeatedly risks a lot for love get so affected too, because they are either super hoping that this is already the right person or bracing themselves for another heartbroken phone call. When you damage a person’s heart, you also hurt an entire circle of family and friends who truly care about him or her.
Some people take that for granted just for the sake of keeping appearances. Some people just like to keep their pride intact and watch out for the details they can tell their straight-minded friends. And so we have many more broken hearts in this world than necessary. You might think that a person who pursues you will not engage in mud-pelting like the criticizing ones who do not know you, but in fact, that very person is more capable of drawing ten daggers straight to the center of your heart with just one word because he or she is so frigging close.
When that time comes you got broken after taking yet another unworthy risk, you find it so difficult to forgive yourself. Because you let him or her come close. Because you let him or her be able to hurt you in this way and in this magnitude. These thoughts can torture you. “I wish I had not given my number to that arrogant schmuck. I wish I had not picked up that phone or answered that text message he sent the first time. I wish I dropped dead or tied my shoelaces when he passed by. I wish… I wish…”
Heartache is never something you really get used to. It just gets worse each time it happens. Sure, you get to hide the tears and save it for bedtime. Outwardly, you improve. You hassle your friends less, because you are already getting embarassed in another failure.
You can go out and have fun for a few hours. You may even get a Ph.D. In flirting or a certificate in exchanging pickup lines with another possibly equally broken stranger. I have met so many individuals who stay in mediocre relationships because they are afraid of having to deal with the ruins of a 100% broken heart. I can’t blame the people who cannot unchain themselves in relationships that are tearing them apart. It takes lots of courage to let go of the familiar, established and comfortable. And once you take that first courageous, you don’t know what comes next and that’s more than enough for even the manliest man to get that ants in the pants, anxious feeling.
You may take the plunge of unchaining yourself. But at the end of the day, even when you have been freed from the grip of a toxic relationship, you face that nagging fear of having to go through that kind of hell again if you decide to open yourself up to another person in another time. You get gripped by that fear day by day, and sometimes you just don’t know where to frigging put yourself, much less put yourself together.
In spite of these salty tears falling off my cheeks, I still believe in Love. I still believe that there are people worth waiting for and fighting for. I still believe that God can bless people in marriage and in celibacy. And I do not want to make a choice between the two because I am averse to one or the other.
Mistakes are inevitable in this imperfect world. Casualties in the altar of genuine love are unpredictable. And at the expense of ourselves, if I may add. My humble bank account has an insurance policy, but my heart, more valuable than money, sadly does not operate like that.
My tears have already dried up as I type this last line. My resolve has become renewed and made firm. It hurts, but I am certain of late that I have made uncomfortable decsions, but they were necessary given the current circumstances of my life.
There are no rewinds, only moving forwards. And forward we go.