“Did you just say what you’ve just said?”

I couldn’t have heard her right. It just couldn’t be that way. Not now, nor ever.

———-

Love can be fatal.

How true. It’s like everyone caterwauls about love and it’s descendants. Whenever I try to strike sensible conversations with my friends, they’d just look at me and cry. Why?

It’s because of that damn thing called love.

And I’ve fallen victim to it.

My mother and I were just going through our regular ShoeMart ritual. But there was something different. Something was wrong. My mom had this pinched look on her face as if somebody was hurting her. Something was definitely wrong. When I couldn’t help it anymore, I asked what’s bothering her. She told me.

And I wish she never did.

I never heard what my mom said next. The world was spinning. It was just too much. I felt the happiness inside me withered slowly with every tear that dropped from both my eyes. I saw my mom trying frantically to make me stop. From doing what?

Sobbing.

My father has outdone himself. He has left us for his real life – a real life of a Church-bound marriage and Church-blessed children. He has decided to leave us for his true family, taking with him all the love we’ve given him, and leaving us with nothing but a letter and bittersweet memories.

I haven’t watched the news for a couple of days because I’m afraid I might encounter yet another inhuman act of violence. It’s ironic how Filipinos tend to hate people from other countries who abuse Filipinos. Haven’t they noticed that abuse also happens here in the Philippines? The most brutal acts of violence happens here. So does this mean that it’s okay for Filipinos to hurt one another?

Last week, before I went to school, I saw Unang Hirit. It’s one of those early-morning shows that makes you want to throw up, but it’s better than the show in ABS-CBN (which I don’t even know the title).

An internet shop owner was stabbed to death by his brother-in-law. Why? He said it’s because he had been “humiliated,” pinagmumura raw siya. And all this boils down to one reason: money. What the…?! And the killer killed someone, his brother-in-law, his employer, just because of money? What hurts me the most is that two children were watching the crime as it happened. Trauma. It would be hard to get out of it. Everything was caught in the surveillance tape installed inside the shop. What a freaky remembrance of the crime.

I can watch gory movies with lots of blood and flesh exposed while eating. I never get sick seeing movies which have been deemed as nakakadiri. But that shop footage – it’s a true-to-life crime. It’s not a movie anymore. There’s no more unbelievably horrible than reality. I think movies have desensitize us from violence, that when it happens in real life, we get totally numb.

I wish everything bad will just go away.