Lyndi

“My Butterfly”

“When you love someone so deeply they become your life
It’s easy to succumb to overwhelming fears inside.
Blindly I imagined I could keep you under glass
Now I understand to hold you I must open up my hands
And watch you rise…

I divulged the magic spell. I told myself “I will never cry”. Suddenly, there were tears… Running… Slowly… Uncontrollable. I’m struggling with my emotions. I never cry that hard before. Seems like it was my very first time to experience tears falling all at once. I felt so sorry for myself because up to this very moment, I have been breaking the spell.
The night before she left, her smile is so sweet as if nothings going to happen. I watch her as she laid her head on her favorite pillow. I can’t get into my bed knowing that it will be the last time I’ll see her sleeping. I admit I’ve never been that respectful and obedient sister to her. I used to crack jokes and laugh at her imperfections. Now, I realize her voice is my peace of mind in this crazy world. Among all my siblings, she’s the only one who saw the weakest part of me that I also know how was it to cry. She guided me when I was about to give up life. Her presence, yes! Her presence is indeed essential part of my being. But now, “how’s life without the person I grew up with?” The answer, I don’t know. I ask the sun, but he answered me with rain.
The most awaited moment came. It was past one o’clock in the morning when I heard my mother asking her if everything is fine. My sleepy eyes opened when I realize that it was the day of her departure. All of them are happy. Their laughter is like a tourniquet squeezing every strand of my veins. That was the painful scenario in my nineteen years of existence. Then I heard footsteps in my room. I saw her standing in front of me, but I was a pseudo pretending I’m still sleepy to avoid a dramatic conversation. I’m afraid I might lose my temper and hug her tightly and never let her go. But I stayed calm, trying to put a smile on my face as she makes some utterances. I saw her walking out of the door while her shadow is gradually fading. As much as I would like to pull her back to where she was standing I’ve lost my magnetic power.
The magic spell, “I’ll never cry” but I did. It was my first time to experience tears falling all at once. I felt sorry for myself because after I have done writing this, I am still, silently breaking the spell.

“Spread your wings and prepare to fly
For you had become a butterfly
Fly abandonedly into the sun…
If you should return to me,
We truly were meant to be.
So spread your wings and fly… MY BUTERFLY…”
***********************************
"Gusto mo mag-blog?, ang colorful kasi ng buhay mo eh.." a text
message i received from a friend. I wonder why it's colorful? when in fact all i can see is darkness. A huge nimbus clouds swallowing my strength to move forward. At this very moment, all i can feel is pain..yes..and it makes me so numb. Why am i suffering from this hell? what have i done wrong? or is just me whose outlining a story of agony?
I can still remember how she smiles..beautiful..I waited so long to meet that girl and when it finally came..seems like a decisive moment for both of us..But i found solace while watching them walking away and how she held her hand..yeah..it hurts to be replaced but happiness uplifted when she finally found that deserving someone else..It sucks like a bullet. I felt the blood creepling though there is none..i felt the wound open though there is none. This pain..this agony no one could ever heal..no one could ever cure..and for that truth..the aches doubles..triples..polynomials..
I'm a victim of a "what do you call that kind of love thing"..A love that is beyond the limit..out of the standard..a love that is against the norm..Now, look at me straight to my eyes..i'm ready for interpolation..ready for cross-examination..If we exercise freedom..who are you to judge me? who are you to mock at my imperfections?.But as the cliche' goes..in every rule there is an exemption..and how else i put the earth into its axis..the word TABOO will still remain its sense..the sense of truth, is the sense of how i wish the meaning is the other way around..the other way around..if a scream could free me from this pain then i would have put my dignity at stake..but it's not..and it will never be..there is no such thing as over night moving on process..now that she has flown away from me..i should have clipped her wings and made her mine for all eternity..i wish i never opened up my heart..i didn't mean to love you baby..how i wish it's
me..it's me..but i'm just weak..and you're no longer free...i wish i never let it get this far..if i could just turn back time..i didn't mean to make you mine..

LYNDI
**BSE 3

“Ascension”

In this dark solitary moment
I paint your name in the wall of sentiment
As the agony reflects, struggling to find a cure
Silently, I shouted. When will love become a failure!
Is it when you never got the chance to speak?
‘Cause true love when kept silent is meek.
Or is it when you allow sprouting the gaps and lapses?
However, every print in the dust you tend to follow his footsteps.
I asked the wind, but he answered me with rain
Trying to remove the scar but healing tantamount to pain.
There is no blood, but why am I bleeding?
There is no wound, but why am I aching?
The truth is the irony of reality
But I was incarcerated in deception and falsity.
The clouds eventually covered half of the moon
And your only light penetrates, capturing my solitary room.
Why do you have to whisper and embrace my inner soul?
Caught you dying, healed your wings..But flying is still your goal.
Go on.. Sail..be the pilot of your fantasy
Beneath your wings, I am your strength.. Armor to your enemy.
I loosen my grip and wiped the tears of your ascension
In the edge of the circle, you will find me waiting for your resurrection.

***************************************

“The Return”

It’s been five years when I left this place. The tall buildings, crowded malls and hi-tech gadgets of the passer by reflect the innovations of the backward, old-fashioned place back then. But still, the dusty air that touches my smooth skin reminds me of how it was before. This is the place where I acquired the fundamental ways of living leading to endeavor the complex realities of surviving. I’m so glad to see our house standing firmly and the wood’s complexion shows how many days and nights, months and years it had waited for someone to come in. The walls are still the same walls were I used to write and draw the laughter and tears of my childhood. A canvass embroidered with agonies of losing the head of the must be perfect family. This place is indeed, my ancestor of pain.
I was five when my father left us. He gets addicted to drugs and he has another women that gradually replaced the narrow space of my mama in my father’s merciless heart. My mother can no longer bare the tormented pain she’s been carrying as if the world is on her shoulder, we decided to move to another place. We lived in a smallest and hottest house I’ve ever been. When I was in high school, my mother met this foreigner named Joseph. A tall big tummy white skin man with a tattoo on his left foot whom I met for just a week and wants me to call him daddy right away. He promised us everything, money, house, studies, everything! Fortunately, all of them were granted. After my two years of studying college here, I decided to stop and we migrated to Canada where I pursue my course. Now, finally I’m back. I’m proud to say I almost had everything. At first I thought I will never be happy, that me and my mama can never get away from the many responsibilities left by my father. This necklace is the only memory I had with him. I don’t even remember his face now, however, I realize If he did not leave, we will never met Joseph, my big daddy that soon became an ideal father, but sadly, he had an heart attack two years ago. See, our life is a wheel of fortune and lucky enough we were able to spot the jackpot!
As I sat on the bench, I saw a man with so many beards on his face selling cigarettes. I bought two packs and start puffing. Then the man told me “hey, be careful that’s not good to your health” he said. I never answered back but in my mind I say, “Then why is he selling it?” Sigh, weird, my mother doesn’t even tell me what I supposed to do.
I met new friends when I arrived here. We go gimmicks and life is so fun. It’s past 3am when we get out of the bar. I get into my friend’s car because they advice me not to bring mine. Before we could start moving I saw a familiar shadow. Yes! It’s Mario, but before I could have a clear sight of him, my friend starts the car and I can no longer stop it. “Hey girl! Aren’t you planning to go home? Without a word I step out of the car. I was not even aware that I’m already in front of my door, it seems like I’m out of my reverie. I get my key and go straight to my room. As the rain pours, my crystal window was blinded with fog and I lose a sight of the future, of what was there outside the window. I was a prisoner of my solitary room and the ambience brought me back to the rhythm of the past.
It’s been three years since we separated. Wilma is my best friend whom I can talk to but I haven’t receive any responses from her recently, lately that she informed me about her situation, “Cost-cutting” is the term she used. I have no choice but to be with myself again. Well, I have a problem, I’ve been struggling with this feeling I had towards someone. Defeat, frustration, hurt, everything puzzled me. Mario is my best friend’s best friend, they had a petty quarrel just a month ago and opening a topic about him will just ruined her precious day. Mario is simple yet courageous looking guy. Back when we were high school, he’s one of the highest-ranking officers in our CAT class. Whenever he wears his uniform, gosh! He was poured with so much sophistication. But I never felt the feeling I had with him now, perhaps, he was being linked with Wilma back then. Funny it seems when our friends had to conduct an open forum because of my non-sense jealousy with Mario. He’s always there for my best friend and I hated it. I felt like he’s stealing my best friend’s attention. But later on I realize, I’ve been so immature. Now it turns out deeply ironic, I’m so attracted with him.
After a month I was informed about what happened to Wilma. Her boyfriend was asking for a space after three years of relationship. I felt so sad because I know how much my best friend loves that guy. Mario was there, again. A man in a shining armor whose loving her for a long time. The next day I saw Mario downstairs and we exchange hi and hello’s. There is a smile on my face but I was really hurt with that sudden interlude. I saw the happiness in Mario’s eyes, happiness that only Wilma can. I realize until now Mario is still willing to wait for the moment Wilma will learn to love him back. It was painful to me that I had to bear it all this years.
When I reached home, I saw a letter on the top of my table. There is a sudden rush of curiosity about what was written in that paper but I decided to take a bath first. I was about to open my closet when the phone rang. I wonder who the hell will call in the middle of the night, but to my surprise it was Wilma. She has good news to share; she is starting to fall for Mario. She realized that he’s the man for him. Silence, I felt all my elements trembling on my system. She's waiting for my reaction but in that moment, I was point blank and totally caught in the middle. Then I saw the letter; I grab and tear the envelope. It was a letter from my mother; she left with my daddy Joseph without even telling me personally because they know I’ll disagree. Now I have no choice but to follow.
I told my friends about it and they are all excited for me. They’re sad but they understand. Wilma cried when I talk to her but I’m so insensitive due to that sudden revelation. The day of my departure is fast approaching. I’m starting to be nervous, I’m thinking of what life will be after this? Am I leaving because I was totally hurt and trying to escape the pain? But if I stay I will still be hurt, even more that’s why I decided to go.
I felt my tears crawled down on my cheeks as I see myself in the mirror. I tap my shoulder as I always do and told myself "go on girl". Retrospection is over, but is it really over? Only time can tell that it was quite a show, very entertaining, that it's altogether gone and I must take a bow. Seeing him after many years was indeed painful. I close my eyes to escape reality until I achieved a moment of silence, darkness and serenity.
I was awakened by an eager knock on my door. "Hey Diane I miss you honey!" There goes my mama. She's always away since my big daddy died. Tripping around the planet with her socialite friends. For my five months of stay here, this is the second time I saw her. Suddenly, "Oh I'm sorry honey but I have to go, the plane is about to leave in an hour, I must be in a hurry, bye! "Fine!" I just said. I get used to it. But can't my mama understand that I need her? Sigh. I will not allow my loneliness to ruin my day. I walked along the park and sat on the same old bench where I used to stay. I realize it's hard to be free. Nobody cares. I miss the smallest and hottest place where I grew up and the days when my mama is still fond of shouting at me. But the golden bracelet I'm wearing reminds me of the pedestal where I'm at. My house is neither small nor hot, but still it's a house and not a home.
As I was enjoying the cool breeze of that summer morning, I heard somebody singing a very memorable song, " I can't smile without you". I look around and find out it was the cigarette vendor. " Hey lady cigarette?" he offered. " No thanks" I answered. That was the first time I refused to smoke. I don't know what's going on with my mind I just asked the old man, "How was it to be free?" He smiled, then there was laughter, Instead of showing anger, there was a tear, because the old man reminds me of my father. He laughs the way my father did when he's giving me one peso coin as his pasalubong to her favorite unika ija. Then he started talking. "If you're angry, you are not free, but a prisoner of your feelings. Freedom is found inside you. It's how you think and how you feel that you received the key to unlock the inner disturbances in you.
That was the first time we had a sensible conversation. He became my friend, companion, adviser and father. Every morning he gives me the food for the soul. We do bible study and I became his assistant in his small business. I started wishing that he is my father. We may not be rich with money, but abundant in the words of wisdom and hope.
The next day, I brought foods for tatang, as what he wants me to call him, but he was not around. I thought he wouldn't be selling for that day so I waited till the next morning, but still, he's not there. Days, weeks, months passed, still, he never showed. Then I saw my mama asking me to pack all my things for we'll be leaving again, we'll go back to Canada.
The day before we left, a girl approached me. "Excuse me Ma'am, tatang wants me to give you this," she said. It was a necklace and it looks familiar, oh! Yes! It looks like the necklace given to me by my father. But hey, I'm bewildered, I can't understand, is he my father? Slowly, I caress the necklace with my warmest touch and hopelessly utter “my long lost father”. The girl told me he died last month because of lung cancer. I never got the chance to visit him.
If I only knew then I might save his life. Now again I'm leaving, but not to escape from something. I know now the reason why I came back and it was answered by this necklace. Tatang. Beard man. My Papa.