For Bubut, swimming in misery

There is nothing I could do or say to bring a stop to your pain. Misery has its way of alienating you, disengage you from others, making you feel as if you are the center of this god-forsaken universe. Misery from a lost love is even more brutal and uninhibited. How then could I help you pass stages of anger, resentment, guilt and irresolutely course your way to acceptance? I dont know how. And Im not even trying, lest you call me pakialamera and mahadera. Ive been called those explicits before by someone who has once, twice, thrice plunged into ludicrous relationships. I do not want to be the villain giving unsolicited advises and constantly prodding you to recall the glorious past and what went wrong.

What I could do now is to keep my lines open 24/7 in case you need someone to down those San Mig lights with you. Or smoke till our hearts content if and when you decide to succumb to nicotine and tar. I could sit beside you quietly or we could laugh like before while watching a nonchalant, sometimes wacky no brainer Korean movie. Or we could talk about it repeatedly and exhaust everything there is to mull over until we puke.

What I could do is to talk about the harsher realities of everday life. The mother who lost her child. The breadwinner who just got fired. The impoverished families who scavenge for food just to get by. We could talk endlessly about our victories and our sufferings. We could talk about our country plunging into a state of wretchedness, our people hanging by the thread.

But right now, if you choose to buoy in misery, I will leave you alone to grieve quietly.

In case you look for me, I’ll be cheering for you at the other end.

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