Karma Strikes

"After a while...
...you learn the subtle difference between holding a hand and chaining a soul...and you learn that love doesn't mean leaving and company doesn't mean security, and you begin to build all your roads of today because tomorrow's garden is too uncertain for plans...
After a while...
you learn that even sunshine burns if you get too much, and you begin to see that kisses are not contracts and presents are not promises.  You begin to accept your defeats with your head up and your eyes open...with the grace of an adult, not the grief of a child.So plan you own garden and decorate you own soul, instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers, and you would learn that you can endure, that you really are strong, and you do have worth. "


  Back when someone would ask: “Don’t you want someone special?” with their eager faces that just begs for me to answer ‘yes’, it was quite fun feeding them disappointment every time.  

                So I would say: “I don’t need anyone else.”  I would accompany it with a smile and curt laughter.

                Then a chapter in my life begins and swore to myself that all of that love-hating ritual I did before was all thrown at me by karma—yes, karma, you! You owe me big time!—I was faced with dilemma. Let’s just say senior year was the year of relationships and I was the black sheep (opting to ignore the stupid bandwagon), my friends faced the exact same thing I despised. Love, or so they would claim, have broken their hearts. I, being the only person who has never involved herself further than friendship, was their last chance. They would come up to me, eyes watering in desperation with questions along the lines of “What went wrong?!”, “It hurts so much, I want to forget about him, what should I do?” and of course, “Sa dinami-dami ng tao diyan, bakit siya pa, bakit iyong tao pa’ng kahit kalian ay alam ko’ng hindi ako kanyang mahalin?” (There are so many people out there, why did it have to be him, why did it have to be the person I know that can never love me?). I had always explained myself clearly, blunt and rash: because you wanted to, don’t blame your heart—it’s not the one falling over this one person. Nothing’s wrong, it’s just how love is, expect it to be always kind and you’re asking for a miracle, hurt is part of it, sacrifice is the main point of it. Forget about forgetting, you don’t have to force yourself to forget—because you know in yourself that at one point in your life that person meant something to you, that person made a difference and that person mattered. And as for the obviously repeated question that involves regret, I always give them what I thought, no sugar-coating, but as is.

                “It’s because, it’s him. A person can be sweet and kind, but that won’t push you to fall for him. You like this person because he’s who he is. Sweet, kind, a little impatient, kuripot, corny and a bad dresser—positive, negative, everything, you love him all the same. If you don’t, then you’re lying. You don’t love him, you just like a part of him and that’s not love. That’s false admiration and you’ll just have to deal with that yourself.”

                I think I know why I have such bad taste in guys; it’s my karma for being too brutal with my answers. I constantly find myself still searching for people that would make me feel better about myself. But I, ended up with the complete opposite of it. Maybe it’s God’s way of laughing at me, or his twisted way of amusement because heaven’s too good to have a person twisted to a point and poked to no end by ‘love’.

  I have thought that love is over-rated, (who needs an emotion to dictate to them how to act?) but when I was at that point—there was nothing I could do.  Maybe he isn’t the best looking guy out there; maybe he’s the worst choice to like, and maybe I could be just preparing myself for the longest jump I will ever have to do. But I know it’s worth it. I was never a person that easily falls into godforsaken traps, so when I do, I find it completely impossible to climb my way out. Right now, I’m at cross whether to dig myself a grave or to reach out for the hand that’s been held out for me to get. There are so many reasons for me to let go and forget about this person, so many ‘What the hell!? Why….!?’ Reactions that just make me laugh. I never expected anything, nor will I ever. I don’t need reciprocation; I just need him to be happy. I can’t make him laugh, smile, or anything at all. It’s a sad truth that I have to come accept; I love seeing him bounce his way up to somewhere with that confident smile, love seeing him just openly flirt with anyone. It’s entertaining? Funny? Both? I don’t know. I just like it that way. He has this thing about him that I just like seeing; whether it’s his smile or smirk, it just affects me in ways I can’t show. I could be having the worst moment in my entire life, and still find it quite easy to smile when he does. It’s infectious. He could as well be the meanest person alive, but for some unknown fraction of truth I like him.

My best friend once told me: “I bet when you fall in love, you’ll be the one begging for your own advices. I know you April, I know how you care, how you depend on others, how you value every moment. You never felt the cold stabs of a broken heart, and I hope that when you do, you’ll really do what you told people to.”

Best friend, you know I think I could possibly need one of your super-down-to-earth-slaps right about now.  Hey, at least I know what I am to this person. I know where I stand, and I think its fine. I’m not the person that can make him smile his best, or the person he could talk to, I can never make him laugh like others will, and like hell I can’t be the person he likes—but it’s fine. Cliché as it is, I fell for that smile and that’s all I’m after.

I’m not saying I love this person. I won’t say it, or rather I don’t deserve to say it. 

There’s a difference.

April Santiago

C31