a thought

There are times that I just want to 'sit and cry'. It never left me. It had become some kind of habit I look forward to whenever I feel down and weary. And it usually happens when I'm having my monthly period--when my emotion is at it's peak and I could not seem to control it. They call it PMS or Premenstrual Syndrome (not that the name matters, i just love the sound of it).

I kind of liked the thought though, that once a month I'd be able to do my 'sit and cry'. Because at most times, I feel like nothing at all. Absolutely nothing. I could watch the sun rise and set, let the hours pass by, notice how repititive my tasks are, think what else has life to offer me and it was all the same... I am numbed with sadness.

Sometimes I just lose myself. Completely. Then I began to collect my thoughts and regain myself again. But when I look at myself in the mirror I see a familiar yet a strange face. And fear would tug my heart again, as I hear a voice in my head, 'I'm not me anymore'.

So i relied on that moment I can breakdown and cry my heart out. I relied on my hormones to push me to the limit of my own self tolerance of pain. And I am glad that I can still cry. That I am still normal. At least, for once a month.

Normal people cry. It's a way to wash the heavy burdens of our hearts. Though sometimes I feel like crying isn't enough. My burden is too great that I want to cough it up and spit it out. But I knew it is something I cannot just release. It's something I've got to live through. Something I should keep until I get used to it or until it get used to me.

Sometimes, when the load is too heavy to carry I get to my knees and beg for it to stop. Crying repeatedly, 'I can't do this anymore'. The sadness is too great. And I can feel my heart badly bruised that it's even very painful to breathe. But after each breakdown, I manage to get stronger. And what has made me cry will make me cry lesser and lesser and until no more. And my tears dry up and my heart is unfeeling.

It's a safe emotion. As steady as a breathing of a man peacefully asleep. Safe but wrong. One should feel happy or sad. It's the absence of sadness that makes us happy. Likewise, it's the absence of happiness that makes us sad. If you haven't felt both, you wouldn't be able to define one. Being able to feel these emotions is a gift. Being able to feel none is a curse.

And I'm cursed... or so I believe I was.

Until that Sunday...

I brokedown.
And it wasn't even PMS. It wasn't part of the cycle so I wasn't prepared for it. I was in the church with Sai and with a lot of people. From the early part of the mass I felt light-hearted. I love the music and the voice of the choir, and was happy to see that Father Gwaps (short for gwapo=handsome) was the one celebrating the mass. He's a Filipino priest and I always loved his homily.

I felt grateful. Not all are privileged to celebrate a mass in a place that is so far from home. I am more than glad I knew a certain place that will never abandon me in times of great sorrow. But that wasn't the moment I brokedown. It was during the holy communion that my emotions gave away. The choir played an instrumental of "May Bukas Pa". I know the lyrics by heart. I was taken a back by my own reaction. I was crying hard. It was awful. Sai hugged me and she cried too. And the lady who was sitting beside me cried too. I just hid myself and tried to control myself (which was almost impossible). I just felt like I couldn't take everything anymore. I tried to control my sobs. I felt the urge to go somewhere to 'sit and cry' but i preferred it there. To receive the holy communion.

By the time that I received Jesus, I was calmer. And when I knelt down, I prayed. I prayed so hard like I've never prayed before... like it's my last chance to pray. I prayed for strength to bear all the burdens this life has to give. Especially to the ones I love that they might be stronger too to tackle life's uncertainties.

By the time that I ended my prayer, I wasn't crying anymore. When Sai looked at me, we both laughed. She was still full of tears. I remembered earlier that day she said it's not easy for her to cry but when she does, she finds it hard to stop. We smiled and we hugged. We hugged the lady beside me too. She was teary eyed as she said, "Hallelujah!"
I tried to sing along with the choir. Sai's tears continued to flow and I joked, "Naunsa ka Sai?". And she looked at me and said "Ikaw man gud."

When I turned to the lady beside me, I saw her hand on my direction with her eyes closed. And I was stunned for a moment and tears began to well up again. She just prayed for me. I hugged her tight and said "God bless you!" and I really meant it.

I don't know what it takes to pray for someone. I was deeply moved by that lady's action. When was the last time I prayed for someone?

When we went outside, a lot have asked "Ngano mihilak man ka?" And I simply shrugged off and said, "Nakahinumdum kong Santino."


One thing I realized that Sunday is that I am not numb actually. I'm just trying to ignore my pains.

One thing I'll always remember that Sunday is that lady who prayed for me. It looked as if she was struggling with her problems too and yet, she prayed for me... when she didn't even know me. And so I came up with the idea that when I feel the heavy burden I'm carrying, I'll pray for those who have heavier loads than mine. It's the same as what Sai said, "I cried because they didn't buy me a new pair of shoes but here comes a man with no feet." I should dry my tears then so I can see the tears of others.

And one last thing I just came up with, it's a good thing that I can 'sit and cry' but it's much better when I 'kneel and pray'.