SOULFUL

Archive for the ‘story of love’ Category

On my last year in college, I became friends with Rico* a second year Political Science student who apparently intended to go to Law School and be a lawyer someday. I learned later that he was of a big and powerful clan in the northern part of the country.

Before I finally graduated, I noticed his closeness with one of our older friends, Gail*. A smart, practical and amiable girl whom everyone, including me, liked. I didn’t notice anything special about them. He looked like an inexperienced overly-excited apprentice waiting for her, the mentor’s, every word. I completely forgot them as soon as I was out of the university.

After two years, however, I crossed paths with Rico again. He seemed so excited to see me. He asked me if I have Gail’s number and I was glad to give it to him. After a week, I received a call from Rico. He was.. sad. I asked him what it was about and he told me their story.

He told me that they had a one-night physical affair and that he didn’t know he would fall in love with Gail after that. Though I already knew the answer, I asked him if it was really possible. He said they only made love once but they talked about anything and everything, and that he could be himself when he was with Gail. He said everything she said about life was true. And most importantly, Gail was unlike any other girl he met in that she didn’t have any expectations, she didn’t ask for commitment and faithfulness and loyalty but in a very short time they were together, she made him feel special.

I said that was very nice, but asked him why he was sad. He said he asked me Gail’s number hoping to ask her out, to court her properly and offer her the love he has felt for her for a couple of years now. But Gail refused him politely. She told him how special he had been to her and if he had found her sooner maybe there was still a chance for them. She said sorry and told him she was getting married in two days time.

I can no longer remember what I said to Rico to make him feel better. What I remember is how hurt I was for the two of them..

*not real names

When I went home in the province a few weeks ago, I heard a story that saddened me. For one, it really was an unfortunate event and second, it should not have taken place at all.

The story had it that two brothers, Larry and Lito*, lived beside each other’s house. Their wives were not in good terms but were apparently forced to live side by side. One day, Larry’s goose got loose and wandered around Lito’s yard and left goose dung.

Enraged, Lito’s wife ran towards Larry’s wife and said impolite things. Before long, they were engaged in a heated argument. The argument turned into a fist fight when the brothers got themselves involved. As if that wasn’t enough, Lito aimed at Larry and shot him. It was Larry’s wife who took the bullet intended for her husband and she died.

I felt sad that things like this happen. That a brother would aim a gun at his brother, accidentally kill his sister-in-law and deprive his nieces and nephews of a mother, all because of goose dung.

Sometimes living with your spouse can be difficult and living beside your extended family even worse. But we have to make allowances and try to settle our differences for the plain and simple reason that.. it’s for the best.

When I was in sixth grade, my classroom adviser was a spinster in her early 40s. She was my brother’s adviser in sixth grade and my sister, Liz’s as well. She was one nice lady, warm as a mother but as strict as one.

She used to live in her cozy little house with her widowed mother. The house was spotlessly clean, smelled like newly washed clothes and adorned with handmade arts and crafts. I was fortunate enough to be invited there a couple of times. I wasn’t one of her favorites because I believe she didn’t have one, but she surely was very nice to me and to my other classmates.

So we always do to nice people, I wished her, first and foremost, a husband.

That year, she trained for a declamation contest. It was in the district level which meant that I was to compete against representatives from other schools. Fortunately, I won. I nearly lost, though, to a pretty lass from another school, also a sixth grader, and, I learned later, the daughter of one of the teachers there. I never forgot her.

After three years, I heard a marvelous news. My sixth grade teacher got married! I was so happy for her. But I was stunned when I learned that she married the newly widowed teacher in another school who was the father of the girl who nearly beat me in the declamation contest. I felt, somehow.. betrayed. I have no reason to feel that way, of course, so I just focused on being happy for her.

And I was right to be happy, because I learned that the couple used to be sweethearts when they were young. For some reasons, the guy married someone else and my teacher didn’t marry at all. When the guy got widowed, he married her the moment it was appropriate to do so.

It was my first glimpse of what true love really means.

Val* was raised by his widowed mother. With only the pension they received since his father died in the line of duty and his mother’s small income as a laundry woman, Val was able to finish college. His success was more his mother’s than his.

Val has only one brother and no sister, so, his mother was happy when Val finally brought home the girl he intended to marry. The girl appeared to be extremely quiet and unapproachable, but Val’s mother took at is shyness brought about by being new to the family.

Several months after they married, however, Val’s wife showed signs of impoliteness. She tended to answer her husband and her mother-in-law in disrespectful manner. She started throwing things when she gets irritated and mumbling insults directed at her mother-in-law.

Finally, Val’s mother had enough, she approached her daughter-in-law and asked her what her problem was. The girl yelled at her and enumerated the things she disliked about her husband’s mother. It appeared she didn’t like being told how to do things properly, she got offended when her mother-in-law did not drink the coffee she made (which she just left on the table) and she felt bad because her mother-in-law was not talking with her much.

Val’s mother justified her actions. Afterwards, she apologized for offending her daughter-in-law in any way and finally, offered her hand for a new start. The girl snubbed the offered hand, instead, yelled that she would never ever learn to love and respect her mother-in-law.

I felt sorry for Val who happened to be my distant relative. I wish that someday, somehow, things will work out for him..

*not real name

When I was a freshman in college, I had a bunch of friends who were very accommodating I could sleep in three different boarding houses each week if I chose to. But there is really no place like home so I still preferred to sleep in my own bed, the upper deck of my sister’s bed. I didn’t get used to waking up unable to remember whose house I stayed the night in.

One time, I spent the night with some friends in another friend’s house. We were chatting and playing cards while a shot of gin was moving about. We were so noisy we didn’t notice the brewing argument between the couple next door until their voices were loud enough for the entire boarding house to hear. We kept quiet and were finally able to hear what was going on.

Later than night, I wished I didn’t listen at all.

They were arguing heatedly. We tried to ignore it as we all knew it was a domestic problem and none of our business. Then, the guy started cursing and the girl started screaming. Then, we heard it. The guy was hitting the girl. We froze. Nobody could move. Most of us were of minor age and whatever was happening next door was new to us. For me, it was.. unthinkable.

Then the sounds grew louder. This time, the guy was kicking the girl. I started to shake violently. I guess I was so scared and that I wanted to do something to stop what was happening but was powerless to do so. Luckily, somebody arrived, probably a police officer or a barangay tanod, I could no longer remember. All I cared about was that it was finished.

How one person could inflict that much pain to another remained a mystery to me until now..

For literary enthusiasts, the most romantic story of love would probably be Romeo and Juliet, Tristan and Isolde, Pride and Prejudice or Wuthering Heights. For contemporary readers, it could be Twilight Series.

Upon observing the Lent season, I watched (again) the film In the Beginning and I came across the most romantic story of love. When I was young I considered it a maltreatment of a son-in-law by a father-in-law. When I got a little older, I found it romantic.

When Jacob fled to escape the wrath of his twin brother Esau, he went to his mother’s brother, Laban, and saw his youngest daughter, Rachel, and fell in love with her. He worked for seven years just so he could marry her. The day after their wedding, however, he found out that it was actually Leah, Rachel’s older sister, whom he married as it was the custom of the place to give the hand of the oldest in marriage first before the youngest, thus Laban gave Jacob Leah instead of Rachel. Since it was Rachel whom he really loved, Jacob agreed to work for another seven years just so he could marry Rachel, and work he did. (Genesis 29:15-30)

Well, I hope to meet a man who is still willing to render services to the family of the woman he wishes to marry.

After almost a year of writing true stories of love in this blog, I just noticed that most of the stories I wrote are, sad to say, tragic.

Then, I realized that this magical feeling called love is very seldom to come by. And when I say love, I’m not referring to the physical relationship we see from people who are inclined to public display of affection. I have nothing against PDA but I guess I’m too private a person to engage myself in that.

The love I was talking about is the unconditional type of love that a mother feels for her child, pure and sacrificial. I am talking about love that knows no reason because love is reason itself. Love is putting the welfare of our beloved before anything else. Love is trusting our all, giving our all without any reservation and without asking anything in return. Love is getting satisfaction from knowing that our beloved is happy more than anything else. Love is refusing to give up because giving up might mean something is more important than our love. Love is not being scared of anything and of anyone because our love is the source of our courage and strength.

Finally, love is letting go if letting go means happiness and freedom for our beloved.

Tough, huh?

“Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends –John 15:13”

After all, Jesus gave His life for us that we may live.. That’s the greatest love of all..

I was in third year in college when I met Len* She was younger than me by two years. A product of broken family and raised by her adoptive parents, Len was somehow bitter. She always finds something wrong about anybody, me included of course, but since I learned not to mind criticisms, I just let it pass. But others were not as tolerant as I was, they found Len bitchy unfriendly.

If there was one person I knew Len sincerely cared about, it was her childhood friend Mark. But life seemed to be unfair, Mark’s parents did not approve of Len. Len became even more bitter and said things about Mark’s parents that were not nice. When Mark learned about them, he kept his distance. Consequently, Len  lost Mark as a friend.

Hurt and mad, Len diverted all of her attention to someone she barely knew. She spent the night with the guy and gave herself to him, hoping the guy will love her for what she did. She was wrong, the guy did not find anything special about what she did. After all, they liked each other even though they just met. When the guy left to go home in the province, she never heard of him again.

One night, as Len was headed home, a group of guys invited her to share a drink with them. She found it nice for them to invite her, so she joined them. But in her second bottle of beer, she found one of the guys starting to touch her in a lascivious way. She got up and left. They yelled at her calling her names she didn’t know she would hear.

The following day, she told me about it in a detached manner. I told her she was lucky she was not gang-raped. Then she broke down. She cried and cried asking me why people find it difficult to love her and why is it that she is not happy like other people.

At that time, I didn’t know what to say. I just said that love begets love and that she had to love other people so they will love her back. Then she said why is it that she always loved the wrong person, to this I answered maybe the reason why the brain is in the head is so that it will tell the heart what to do and that she had to use her brain more so that she will commit less mistake in choosing whom to love.

Unwise and young as I was back then, I thought it was the most sensible thing I could say to her.

I think this is one classic question that no one can answer. Why is it difficult to find the right guy? Obviously, the question is not for me, as I am a happily married woman, but for my friends.

At first, I gave them reasons just as classic as the given question. It’s either they have high standards or that they are hopeless romantic. High standards, as in they are looking for a superhero type of guy, I mean.. good looks, high IQ, stable job and gentlemanly behavior. So, they asked me.. Is that high? Honestly, I no longer know

Hopeless romantic, as in.. they will bump into some guy with good looks (again), high IQ, stable job and gentlemanly behavior, and they will feel a spark as if they are hit by a bolt of lightning, and.. they knew, it’s like MAGIC. I guess you know what I mean…

Well, does it really happen that way? I don’t think so. For the past ten years, I’ve seen people getting in and out of a relationship through text messages. Gone were the days when guys took pains to get to know a girl and risk important things they have. I know there are still guys like that, but the question is where are they? Why can’t my friends find them?

Maybe it’s a matter of being in the wrong place at the right time

They met in high school. At 15, they were told they were too young to fall in love and that they had no idea what love really is. Despite the odds, they were happy. Young as they were, they were able to express their affection for each other. They cared for each other, helped each other out, fought for each other, cried in each other’s shoulders, held each other’s hands and kissed each other. They shared the bitter-sweet taste of first love.

But just like young lovers, they parted ways convinced that they will get over it just like the grown-ups said. They were too young to withstand the pressure of their youth. But they believed the grown-ups, the pain will go away, they will find someone new, someone better..

Only, the grown-ups were wrong.. They NEVER got over each other. They both found someone new, but not someone better. The pain did not go away, rather, they got used to it. They never again find someone they would care for as much as they cared for each other. They tried to find a way back to each other’s life but it has become too complicated and the easiest way is to let things remain the way they are.

If only they did not believe the grown-ups and held on to each other and worked things out, they could have saved each other much regret. If only they have known that LOVE knows no age and no time, they would know that they would never find the kind of love they felt for each other wherever they may go.

I saw them in a reunion two years ago. They were civil, too civil with each other, in fact. I saw longing in his eyes and I saw sadness in hers. It has been a long time. Why does it hurt still?

Because no matter how smart we are, we could never decipher LOVE and its mysteries. No wonder people get crazy over it..