Crazy Little Thing Called Love
The rainy season has arrived, and most of us have experienced being trapped at the confines of our home, school or the office because of the unexpected outpour on midday. Some find it a delight and an instant escape from mundane life even just for a while. Others feel disappointed because they can no longer pursue their planned activities.
But either way we see it, we can’t help but smile when see the clouds clear, when the heavens finally stop crying, and when the sunshine tears the gloom with a beam of light to kiss the surface of the earth, and every single life that dwells in it.
Many of us have experienced storms over and over again. But I’m not talking about the wrath of Typhoon Gener. I am referring to an ‘inner storm’ that delights and hurts most of us, yet we still can’t seem to get enough of it.
Love. Yes. You read it right.
I first heard the word love at a very young age. I used to remember my dad tell me how much he loves me. I can also recall how my two Amahs constantly affirm their unconditional love and care for me. It fills up my soul and makes me whole. Nothing can ever replace those words from them.
But my heart skipped a beat when I first experienced love of a different kind. I fell in love for the first time with a childhood friend. Yes, at 7, I was already planning a family when my classmates were just learning how to draw a house. I have always envisioned myself going home from work, and be welcomed by her warm embrace. She would prepare a glass of Grape Juice for me before we sleep.
A decade later, this joyous self-delusion paved the way for the biggest heartbreak that I have ever experienced in my entire life.
When I suddenly realized that the dream I am holding was already gone with the wind, I felt strong waves shaking my soul. Tears flowing down my cheeks were enough to drown the whole of Makati. My grief was enough to burden thousands of mourners.
It was hard to tame a storm inside when the whole world was receiving sunshine.
But life goes on, and my heart goes on with it.
I fell in love again, and lost, and fell in love, and lost. The storm occasionally becomes a cyclone but the Lord tames it in His own ways.
With my innermost desire to love and be loved was not happening or being short-lived, I decided to put my heart to rest for a while. I decided to lower the anchor and settle my voyage until the storm in my life has tamed.
And this month, it did. And I already forgot how it actually felt, having that warm sunny feeling inside my heart that radiates and shouts HAPPINESS to the rest of the world.
I suddenly realized that I am hitting puberty again. I smile without reason. I sing out of the blue. I would always prep myself up as if it were JS days. I would often stare at an empty parking space and sigh, “Oh how beautiful life is!”.
Bizarre. Bizarre. Bizarre.
Whoever will tell me that it is not weird is weird. Whoever will say that is normal is definitely not normal.
But that’s love. It’s weird because it makes us better people. It gives us a better perspective of the beauty that is life. We often shut down our senses to the ugly and disappointing, and begin diverting our attention to the blessings and wonders unfolding before our very eyes- those that have always been in front of us, but we fail to see because we are always busy searching outside our parameters.
The rest is finally over. The anchor has been withdrawn from the seafloor. The voyage is set to fight and conquer a storm- a crazy little thing called love.