The Melancholic Truth

I'm back. I'm finally back and I feel like I've changed a lot since the last time I've posted something here in my blog. Since then, a lot has happened that only my journal and I knew about. It is the only thing that witnessed the events I've thought would never happen to me. The events that I should have foreseen for I always think of what happens next but then, I didn't. Life surprised me and it will continue to do so because of the twists and turning points just like a climax of a screenplay in a movie.

Since this blog is bound to talk about my ordinary existence and though it may not interest you and all the other readers, I will, from now on, be honest. What I'm about to tell you is something I can never speak of personally. I'm so not good in talking out about my feelings because I stammer all the time. So, I have contemplated and decided to write and to let the words just flow out of my heart as I press these keys on my laptop. What I'm about to tell you is some way to satiate this desire that you'd understand me. I suffocate when everybody's attention is at me. I am indeed a passive one. But just for this time, all I want is to be understood by others just for once.

I'm tired of hiding my feelings, trying to pretend everything's all right when it's not. I want to be sincere to myself. Though sometimes when I start to cry, buckets of tears would just endlessly flow right from the windows of my soul. It is because for such a long time pain has been locked up in the depths of my heart, wanting to explode. Then, I'd lie about being okay and I just cry and cry when no one sees me.

Because of this, I know people think of me as a weak and emotional girl just having problems coping up with my emotions. I know they think of me just like a little girl, crying every time her doll is stolen or her nanny didn't pick her up after school. That's just it. I don't care about it anymore. I don't care but I'd only ask for one thing. I hope you'd understand me.

As you read this story, please, to whoever reads this, do understand the confidentiality of this matter. Only your mind and eyes have the right to read and talk about this. I know, instinctively, to those who read my posts are the people whom I trust. I hope I can rely on that. At least, I can rely on that so I can freely express what a girl has been wanting to let out.


That was a fine summer day of May 6, 2009. A girl named Carrie just moved with her family in a neighboring house at her grandparents'. Many things have brought them back to that house. It was then, at around breakfast time, when she noticed something wasn't right. Her Aunt Em has told her to go to her house because they needed to talk privately. Something deep inside her tells her to not go to her house because Pandora's Box is waiting. It's something like that because Aunt Em's face is composed with inenarrable emotion of melancholy and sadness. But, she went anyway. She was not surprised when she saw her Dad and her brother at the living room of her aunt.

Her aunt started, "We have talked to the doctors," Carrie, wanting to cover her ears with her soft hands, could feel her heart beating rapidly. "and they said, she's got only a year left." When Carrie heard her words, it was as if her heart stopped for a moment or so, not realizing tears flowing out of her eyes. After that, everything was a blur. Her aunt's mouth was moving in a slow motion. Her Dad was crying with his hand on his face. Her brother was staring into space with eyes starting to red and drops of liquid flowed down his cheeks. Then, she felt a stinging pain as she collected her thoughts about what her Aunt Em had said.

What she had done with the rest of the day was staring into space and cried and thought about things like what would her life be without her? She hasn't graduated yet. She hasn't reached her dreams yet. She hasn't shown the love she felt for the person. She barely said the words of "I love you" to her mom.
The days came after that but she never cried again. She vowed not to cry anymore especially at home because it will only chase the remaining sense of happiness in the air away. There were times when she would want to cry but she controlled it. There were times when she really couldn't help it especially in school when she would cry buckets because it was the only time when she could. Every time she would be hurt badly, she'd remember those days and cry endlessly in school.
Besides crying, she prays. She prayed to God and thank Him for each day that passed given to her mother. May 6, 2010 came. She breathed and couldn't believe that they have surpassed the hard year of pain and suffering. She learned that her mother is going to live much longer than a year, two years, a decade, a score, and God willing, a century.

Life is not about how long you live or how you live. It's about how you live every moment and how to get the best out of life God has given you. Carrie has realized that and I hope I'd live with that, too, until the minute of my last breath. Just like Carrie, I've sacrificed and I've given up things I wanted for the sake of other people. Though they don't seem to know about it, I did it still. It just didn't matter. I'm just so fortunate that because of it, good things that I thought would never happen happened.
I've learned, too, that some things aren't meant for you due to the circumstances of life. I have also realized that if I haven't given up, I wouldn't have realized my mistakes and I wouldn't have found the priceless treasures around me, a best friend.

Remember, it may only take a moment to stop, look around and appreciate but it takes a lifetime to remember the moment.