#redmichio

Pain is part of everything. They say it's a bad thing. But some say there are good things in pain.

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Lately I have been thinking why do people hurt? Why is there pain? When it only destroys us like a time bomb, ticking away as the seconds pass until that one big explosion leaves desolation in its aftermath.

Looking at the sunset in Manila Bay, I think back to those moments when my heart was like being torn away from my chest, like having no pulse at all. That I wanted to surrender to a deep slumber in the hopes that when I wake up, I would feel nothing. But as I open my eyes in the morning, it is still there. Hoping it was only a nightmare. But to no resolve, it is otherwise. Reality: it's what makes me want to sleep some more. For in my sleep, I am numb.

Falling in love with someone who only wants to 'play around' is one of those things checked in my list. I was young and stupid. Idealistic even. As I shut my eyes after one final look at the sunset, I realized that the pain I felt that time is the same as the pain I felt today. The same pain that I felt 5 months ago. And the one 6 years ago. I discovered that pain is generic. Only the reasons behind it is what's different. But what we feel is just the same. Getting hurt by someone we hold dear is the utmost betrayal of trust. For as we love, we entrust our hearts. As we hurt, that trust gets broken and our hearts gets wounded.

When we love, we also trust. It is one of those packages you get when you but a happy meal. Love and trust. But people make choices that destroy the very foundation of love. And then there is a bonus in that happy meal: pain. Over the years, scarred like it went to battle, my heart still continues to beat. Funny how one would describe falling in love like going into battle. Love should never be a battle or even close to it. Like a game where someone wins and someone loses. But in reality, love often becomes a game too risky enough that the heart becomes vulnerable. And sooner or later, one's heart is wounded. Wounds will heal eventually. But scars are left. Mine has lots of it. Calloused as well to say the least. The heart adapts and soon, it will feel nothing. Like sensory adaptation, the heart reacts to constant pain that in time, it loses the ability to recognize it. A higher dosage will make it respond again until it adapts. The cycle will continue till the heart can't handle it anymore and die out. Like a flame being stomped out of it's misery as it flickers trying to stay burning.

For a time, I felt nothing. Like I threw away my heart and acting like a soulless monster. I had become a dick. The nice guy was gone and for a time, I did to others what was done to me: I played everyone. That is until my heart was resuscitated. The flame rekindled and my spirit perky again. In our lives, we would find someone that would make all the wrong things right again. But tragedy is always looming. I don't know if I am tragedy's favorite but it happened again. I lost the game again when I fell in love with the wrong person. And so the cycle continued. At that time, I felt as if it is only right to make others suffer the way I did. But people will continue to come into our lives and teach us lessons we thought we already knew. Lessons that astounds us in a way that makes us more mature and responsible. The days of being an asshole was over. My "Brian Kinney" phase was over. I found who I am. It took a lot of heartbreaks though, but I guess it's worth it. I changed not because someone new came to my life. But because I wanted to become a better person. All those things that I learnt is now put to good use. I know who I want to be. A sunlight that will brighten even the darkest days of others. 

The pain that's been building over the past days is similar to the pain I felt when hope is starting to escape my very consciousness. Yet, the feeling of completely trying to hold on to that pain in the hopes of a acquiring gratification after hurting is one thing everyone had gone through, is going through, or will go through eventually. It is like a rite of passage. Life is full of those rites that makes it a challenge. Like a journey where you have no idea where you are going to. But after all those failed relationships, what have I learned?

The sun had set. It is the instant where the world seem to be at it's darkest. As I watch the twilight take over the night sky, I wonder: how do we get back in the light? Then I noticed the moon and the stars in the sky. That even in the darkest of the night, there is still light, even if it is a fraction of that the sun gives. That in our darkest hours, hope is still there. Making us hold on and defy the feeling of being lost. And becoming stronger to face what hurts us head on. That soon, the sun will rise again in the east giving us warmth and light. Like the sun, my optimism has it's breaking point and loses the light that others usually see in me. Yet at the right moment, it will rise again and be brighter as ever. 

Hope. It is the only thing that is giving me strength. But why do we hope for the better? That after a brief moment of happiness we fall into the deep recesses of being hurt. That try as we want to, we couldn't escape from it. That every time we try to stand up, we fall back into the pit of despair. And little by little, that spark of hope is being extinguished. Like a flame running out of wick to burn. Like a car on it's last journey till the gas tank goes empty.

We hurt because of trust. Why do we trust? We trust because we hope. Why do we hope? We hope because we love. Why do we love? We love because we live.

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Everything at this moment is still vague. I don’t know what the future will bring. But all I know is that I want him to smile. I want to be the reason he smiles.

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As I woke up today, I blinked. Was it just a dream? A nightmare? Or was it something real? 

I awoke misty eyed from last night’s adventure. If you call it that. Now that you mention it, it was a blur. Or was it my vision that was blurry when tears ran down my face?

I hit the shower. Warm? Nah. Cold one. I need to wake up. And as the water that was cold as steel hit every cell of my skin, I pondered on last night.

“What’s the problem?” as Geno asked. “That’s the problem. I don’t know what it is.” I replied.

Calling Geno, my very long time friend and fellow actor in college was a right choice. At first I thought of calling my best friend. I decided against it and called Geno instead. Apparently, my best friend Aaron was getting drunk at that time coincidentally somewhere in QC. He is going back to Australia on the 27th to continue the second semester in the University on Canberra and frankly is enjoying the last few days here in the Philippines. The saying “life is a party” can never be too literal for him. 

Geno picked up. He just got off from work at Prudential Life. Chatted some and I asked if he has plans on getting drunk that night. Like Spiderman, he has this awesome spider sense if something is wrong. It has saved him from a lot of heart aches when he senses his ex’s fooling around.

“IDK. I just feel like calling you.” I said to him. Then the convo went to how we are doing, talks of crushes and the likes.

“OK, I’ll be there like in 2o. Later” he said as the call was dropped.

I was alone again. For a brief moment as I was talking with him, I felt good. I felt relieved. More like distracted from the pain that was starting to take effect on my eyes again.

I started to text some people that I felt close to. We talked about what has happened. I was really feeling down. Suddenly the sight of my friend Geno with his corporate look diverted my attention. Of course he was all giddy as usual. He smiled at me while continuing to speak on the phone.

Great. I needed someone to talk to and that someone is talking on the phone with his new boyfriend. I continued to text until he handed me the phone. “Say Hi to John!” he said with all smiles. “Hi?” John on the other hand replied with hello and a small talk ensued and since I wasn’t in the mood for any socialization, I gave the phone back to Geno. A few more seconds and he put down the phone. “So, have you eaten?” He asked. “Yeah” I said meekly. 

“Come and let’s find me a food!” he declared cheerfully. 

After his dinner, we got out to the porch area to light up a fag. People who don’t smoke and says “quit smoking!” is really easier said than done. It is addictive you morons. The instant high you get that helps you clear your mind is so insatiable that parting with it will definitely cause a withdrawal syndrome. Of course, the public is ignorant about these things.

As we were smoking, we were randomly talking about our lives, friends, partying, the days gone by.. He asked. “So why am I here?” I told him what transpired that night. At least how it appeared to me. The jolly Geno me and my friends know of was gone. In his stead was a Psychologist, after all, we are psychologists by profession. I wasn’t at all surprised by this as even my persona changes when psychology mode is turned on. 

Carl Rogers mixed with Sigmund Freud. That was his approach on my case which was nicely done. I need to figure things out. Not about him, but about myself. I was never in a hurry with him. I was taking my time. But I initially thought I was doing it for him, since I was so sure that I was already fine after my last break up. But I was confused if I subconsciously made that decision because I know I am still getting ready or that I am actually afraid of repeating my past mistakes. 

As we grow old, we try to avoid committing the same mistakes that we did in the past. Yet, how are we sure that we have really learnt something from our experience? Or if the trauma of the pain still lingers? Sometimes, these traumas are the cause of one becoming the very assholes and bitches that broke their hearts. But what do we do to change that?

Anyway, I decided to go home around 10. but after we parted, I felt the rush of sadness come. It was inevitable. My tears are on the brink of falling. I felt embarrassed to cry in public. What if someone sees me. “focus” I remember the last episode of Glee as Becky was trying to compose herself. Just as I crossed the street going to were my ride is, someone blew their horn. As I turned to see who it was, the tears started to flow.

It was Teej. He is a friend of one of my ex’s and was there to support me during my great depression days. His smiling face turned serious as he saw the salty droplets run down my cheeks. He knew something was wrong and simply said “I’ll take you home”.

But we didn’t. At least just not yet. We went to a park somewhere south. Near my place. He confessed later that he wanted to take me to ‘that place’ where memories were forged and where those very memories were destroyed. It used to be the special place of me and Teej’s friend, my ex. Now it was just my special place. But going there is bittersweet. It is calming yet the very reason for that place is long gone. And being there, those recollections that are simply impossible to stop would cause more distraught reactions to me.

We had coffee at Santana Groove. There were a few people there, but it was quiet enough for heart to heart talks. I retold him what happened that night and tears just welled out uncontrollably. What a way to welcome the Chinese New Year. Looking back, it was 5 months ago the last time I cried like this.

He didn’t say anything. He just grabbed me, held me in his arms and let me cry on his shoulder. The usual thing he does when me and Kal are in a fit before. I couldn’t stop crying. Then

“So no one told you life was gonna be this way. Your job’s a joke, you’re broke, your love life’s D.O.A. It’s like you’re always stuck in second gear, when it hasn’t been your day, your week, your month, or even your year, but I’ll be there for you, when the rain starts to pour.. I’ll be there for you, like I’ve been there before..I’ll be there for you, cause you’re there for me too..”

He usually sings that song when he is comforting someone who is upset. I sang the chorus with him and my chest felt lighter.. WE laughed a little and started to talk about each other’s lives, our friends, the gang, how it’s been nearly a year since we last went out with the gang etc. We went home shorlty around 2am.

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there were different nationalities aside from the Filipino Patrons that utilizes the quiet ambiance of the place for review and, like us, thesis documentation.

A family of Caucasians caught my attention. I assumed they are here to spend their vacation and may be staying at the nearby Bay View Park Hotel. 

What really made me notice them was that after they drank all their drinks, ate their cakes, they rose up, one by one, and went to the trash bin near our table, and threw away their trash. I was impressed by how their culture have shaped their mentality regarding cleanliness, owning up and taking care of your trash.