The Balance of Nature

I love my husband. Until the very end I hoped for a miracle. But as much as I had hope and faith, I also believed in the balance of nature. So although I was praying to God for a last minute change of heart, I sort of gave up the fight the moment I learnt about the patient in the room next to ours.

Our medical oncologist called me on the night of June 17th to tell me that she thinks my husband will pass in the next 24-48 hours. I was holding out hope that with some kind twist of fate the cancer would suddenly disappear just like in the movies. I politely asked the doctor in charge for a DNR (Do Not Resuscitate) form before Cezar's vitals dropped further.

I finished signing the form and just stood at the nurse's station for a while. I was lost. Across me the door opened and I saw for the first time the only confirmation I needed about my husband's destiny.

The room was filled with pink balloons and there in a bassinet was a newborn child, sleeping, her mother looking at her smiling while everyone else yapped away holding their paper plates and styro cups. There, in between our rooms, nature maintained equilibrium in this shitty thing we call life. It was a breathtaking sight to behold, and it made me cry for obvious reasons.

Cezar's time was up. I have never been more sure.

I had all the monitors in the room, all the medical personnel to give me updates, but I only needed an infant to tell me that whoever was up there in heaven had made up its mind.

I wanted to know who the child was. Was there any chance she was my husband reborn? Does she know that for her to have earned a license to live, my husband had his license revoked? Questions after questions, my mind bled with the craziness of all that I was witnessing. What a cruel way to be left behind. What a way to be reminded that I am now a childless widow. I could've obsessed over this child but decided to let it go. After all, if we were meant to meet, life will find a way to have our paths cross.

Cezar died the next day, he didn't even make it 'til noon. I should've gotten mad at our onco. I should've asked her why  she said he would pass in 24-48 hours when he died only some 12 hours after we talked on the phone. I was angry to the point of irrational. But  I was never hysterical. Cezar hated it when I went crazy.

So there I was contemplating what to do with a life that I had planned with someone who was now gone.  All I could think of was how this life sucks. I hate it. I don't want any part of it. If there is a God, well I hate him too. The first night I slept alone, I prayed hard to never wake up the next day. I did wake up much to my dismay, but with a newfound purpose which was to finish my late husband's wishes. I prayed that after I've accomplished all that he wasn't able to, it would be my turn to join him in heaven.

I have so much to do and not a lot of heart to do them but I'm trying. I'm taking very small steps. Every step feels like stepping on broken shards of glass. Then I think, at least broken glass can heal-it will scar, but it will fade over time. But my broken heart is not a wound. I can wait for an eternity but it will never, ever heal. Like everything else about my life now, all I can do is live with it.

I ugly cry thinking about what I'm supposed to do with my future. Very few people understand that I can fully function and still be grieving everyday. I have never been in such a confusing place. I can laugh out loud while dying inside. It's so hard to live with the guilt of living, smiling, and laughing without the person I love the most. Always, at the end of the day, I wish I could sleep beside him and feel him stroke my hair. I miss his scent. I miss how I had a person I could call mine. Now it's just me and a bootload of pillows. I still have our cats, but nothing will ever be the same again without him.

I wish I could give mother nature the middle finger, just so I can get even. Out of all the lowlives in this wicked world, why take my husband? But in the middle of me writing this, I feel like Cezar whispered something to me.

I suddenly thought about how sometimes nature's balance doesn't have to happen in completely opposite ends. A life that ends doesn't necessarily have to give life to a new person. In what you may call a crazy vision, I heard my late husband say, "I didn't die so that baby could live, I had to die so you could."

I heard it in my head, and I have never hated myself more.

Missing You

Golden Hour is a period shortly after sunrise or before sunset during which daylight is redder and softer than when the Sun is higher in the sky.

I had this when I had you. You were my golden hour. I don't know how I managed to live without you for the last two months. I miss you. Why can't you just come back?

Making a Choice

If I were to pick an ideal wife for my husband said woman would be

-super hot
-super smart
-a gamer
-loves nba
-loves reading manga
-very successful in her career
-does not have a stupid mouth
-would know exactly where and what she wants to eat at any given time or day
++++many more

She would be so different from me and obviously so much better. With my husband's looks, charm, sweetness, and everything else, he could have found someone exactly like this easy. He could have pursued her and despite knowing that he was married, she would surely reciprocate.

But I was lucky enough to have had a husband who chose me and our love for each other. We used to talk about how when you put responsibilities and bills and due dates into the mix, love boils down to one thing- decision. Love is a decision you keep when love doesn't feel like love anymore. Love happens most when things are least romantic.

For us although love existed from day 1, true unconditional love only happened on the day of his cancer diagnosis. It was there the first night I had to drive a very sick Cezar home with only a student permit in my wallet and a few hours of driving lessons.

Love happened the first time he threw up on my hand while he was trying to get the heavy feeling out of his chest.

Love was when I had absolutely no sleep but went to the blood bank anyway to have myself screened for donation (old fashioned hospital wouldn't accept because I had an old tattoo).

Love happened the first time I had to help him use a bed pan and a commode.

Love was celebrating Valentine's day and our wedding anniversary at the hospital while the doctors try to figure out what's causing his growing pain.

It was in the many months where sex was absent.

It's never getting to give him a full hug because of a feeding tube protruding from his stomach.

The uglier things got the truer our love became.

Our love was in his blood, his tears, and his sweat.

Our love prevailed through toxic piss stained by chemo drugs, it lived in the dirt of his disease.

And he loved me for it.

If he were alive I could ask him if he would wish for ideal wife above and I can say with confidence that he would give me a resounding no.

Because the ideal wife is just that, ideal. It takes a lot more to become the true 'til death do us part wife.

Being the ideal wife is easy. Find out what the man wants, become it, profit. But to lay open with all your imperfections and give your partner complete trust that they will love you as you are, that is true love in itself.

And although days are dark and filled with resentment, frustrations, jealousy, and pain, it's comforting to know that there is love in there too.

30

is my age today

is your age when you earned your angel wings

is the date of our anniversary as a couple

is a number we both loved

and 30

is my one big reminder that you are really physically gone

as i lay here in this luxurious bed that i rented for my birthday

i remember the past years when you would sing to me at midnight

that cheerful happy birthday song

and you would greet me, and hug me, and kiss me

and we would make plans where to go

we were together for 14 years

we became an us when we were both 15

you always said on our 16th anniversary we would do something grand

you told me that since the years that we've known each other would be longer than the years we didn't by then,

that it was a perfect time to celebrate

except we didn't make it to that and i regret it

i wish you were here

i wish i had you to hold for the rest of my days

i wish i didn't have to make it on my own

i wish i didn't have to make this birthday wish

I'm Ashamed to Admit

That it hurts to see other people happy.

One of my best friends found out today that she's going to be a mom soon. She has only been married for 6 weeks. They have only been together for over a month before they got married.

I'm happy for her. But I also cried a lot from all the sadness and envy that I felt upon hearing the news.

I'll be 30 in 2 days, my first birthday without my beloved husband. I decided to celebrate it alone. I want to honor my grief on this day, a day that will remind me of all the beautiful things that I had that are now all gone.

This is my new normal. There will no longer be midnight birthday songs for me. I won't have anyone to make plans with for the day itself. I will no longer be receiving personalized gifts from the one I love the most. It will just be a day that will change my age, nothing more.

I wanted to tell somebody about what I was feeling. I browsed through a list of contacts and friendly names. In the end I sent my thoughts to my late husband. To his social media account that has not had any activity in months.

I told him everything. I sent chunks after chunks of texts on how everything sucks without him. I told him how sad I was and how I hate that he isn't here to see me freak out about the future and what it holds. I told him that I was so afraid of being alone and that it hurts. I told him everything hurt.

I told him that when I lost him, I lost a part of my heart that celebrates other people's happiness. I told him that I was losing compassion and disregarding more and more people and the trivial things that they whine about. I understand how perspective changes everything, I know that we all process grief differently. I just can't show compassion and empathy as much as I want to. I pick people to help, people to listen to (usually confined to a very limited few). I feel like I have to grow my heart back before I start feeling again.

I'm tired. I am done. I just want to get rid of the pain and longing and sadness but I can't.

I am not praying to God. Not yet. I just want to be alone with my thoughts.

I want to pretend that he's still here. That we will be seeing each other in a few. I want to live in this dream. I want to be where he is. For a few days, I'd like to believe that he never left.

Finally

I dreamt of you

You came to me

As young as we were when we first met

A short visit

You were feeling under the weather

Then you said you had to go

I told you I was going to drive you home

So I did

I kept looking at you

You were sleeping

My passenger's seat suddenly caught a glimpse of heaven

You were healthy

You were beautiful

The night was so dark but peaceful

It was so quiet

Somewhere along the way I realized I wasn't wearing my seatbelt

So I looked for a place to stop and put it on

It seemed like we were going to our old house

I stopped the car

You stirred

I calmed you down

Told you it was okay

I was just putting on my seatbelt

You went back to sleep

I put my seatbelt on, adjusted my seat

I turned on the engine

Got back on the road

And then suddenly we were at your house

The house you grew up in

We went inside

I told you to go rest now

You asked me to stay

I said it's fine

You can rest now

You asked me to wait

While waiting I saw some of your folks

I said hi

Then you came back

Said you had two tickets for me

You handed them over

I took them

Then the dream was over

I can't believe I only dream of you now

I miss you

I'm so sorry I can't be there for you

Not yet

But someday

Why I Write Like This

I write in fragments. I write in chopped up sentences. I cut them wherever I want.

It's not style, it's not some creative stuff that has a logical reason behind it.

I write like this because ever since I lost the love of my life, I have been thinking like this.

Botched thoughts. Random inserts.

That's just my mind nowadays.

And I try to write them out. One word at a time.

Hoping that as the words run out, so does my grief.

I write like this because I lost the person who used to laugh at how I can talk nonstop when I'm with him.

But there's no one to tell my stories to now is there.

So I write like this to try to breathe out my pain.

One word at a time.

One stupid sentence at a time.

One unfinished thought at a time.

I write like this because I feel like this.

Broken.

On hold.

I used to love writing about him.

Now I hate having to write about my loss.

But I have to write.

Because there's no one here to listen.

He should've been here.

But he's not.

These words are my only escape.

Could you stay my love?

Dreaming With A Broken Heart

When you're dreaming with a broken heart

The waking up is the hardest part

You roll out of bed and down on your knees

And for a moment you can hardly breathe

Wondering, "Was she really here?

Is she standing in my room?"

No she's not

'cause she's gone, gone, gone, gone, gone...

When you're dreaming with a broken heart

The giving up is the hardest part

She takes you in with her crying eyes

Then all at once you have to say goodbye

Wondering, "Could you stay my love?

Will you wake up by my side?"

No she can't

'cause she's gone, gone, gone, gone, gone...

Now do I have to fall asleep with roses in my hand?

Do I have to fall asleep with roses in my hand?

Do I have to fall asleep with roses in my hand?

Do I have to fall asleep with roses in my, roses in my hand?

would you get them if I did?

No you won't

'cause you're gone, gone, gone, gone, gone...

When you're dreaming with a broken heart

The waking up is the hardest part

Why do people keep telling me that God will not let me down when that's exactly what he did?

Sharing Secrets

Fact: I have no one to share my secrets with now

Fact: I have lost "my person" and he isn't coming back

Fact: My life sucks

End of facts

In a Limbo

I want to move out of my parents' house, but I'm paralyzed, can't even start the search. I keep asking why I have to do this on my own. We used to do everything together. We looked at houses together, we looked for properties to rent together, we planned together, we did everything together.

Why do I have to do this alone now? Why did you have to go?

I held back tears at the supermarket. It hurts to skip the aisle where I buy your soap, your shampoo. I miss your organized way of searching for items. I miss how you'll slip something secretly for me to find at home. It can be a hair clip, a chocolate bar, or those dried squash seeds that you knew I loved.

Our old house was messy, but it was a mess we knew. We knew where everything was. Now I don't even know where the rest of my heart is.

I wasn't done loving you. I wasn't done taking care of you. I wasn't ready.

You think that's fair? I loved you everyday for the last 14 years like there was no tomorrow, and still this happened. Meanwhile, there are awful wives and husbands out there who get the privilege of decades with their other halves. What did I do wrong to deserve this? Why couldn't things be the way they were before?

Why can't I wake up tomorrow and see you smiling at me? Why can't I sleep beside you tonight? I want to touch you again, hear your voice, feel your arms around me. Why can't I be happy? Why can't I have what other people have? Why can't I have you?

Why do I have to start my life all over without you?

Hindi ka naman stage ng isang game na pangit at kailangan ulitin. You were everything to me. In fact, ikaw ang pinakamagandang nangyari sa buhay ko.

Ang lupit ng kapalaran sa akin. Sa lahat ng pwedeng kunin sa akin ikaw pa. Sarap lang murahin ng buhay.

Ayaw ko na di pwede ba magquit na?

I am so, so tired. Bawat gabing dumadaan na wala ka pinagdadasal ko na sana paggising ko magkasama na tayo uli. Sana hindi na ako magising. Kulang ang salita at kulang ang mga luha ko para maipaliwanag yung sakit. Please take me with you. Pagod na pagod na ako.

Nagsasawa na akong lokohin ang sarili ko na okay ako.

Not Grieving Enough

When you left, I had people asking why I wasn't crying as much as they expected

I had people telling me that they admired me for being strong

I was sane, I wasn't hysterical

I was awesome


Nobody knew

I started crying when we found out it was cancer

I was hysterical

I cried on your chest, wailing and begging you not to leave me

And you said you wouldn't


I hoped for you to get better

But took a lot of pictures and captured videos "just in case"

I prayed for the cancer to go away

I asked God to shrink the tumor


And he did

But I forgot to ask him not to let the cancer spread

So He didn't


I wanted to tell everybody

It's not that I wasn't grieving for you

It's just that I've been grieving the whole time

That by the time they got to me, I was too tired to grieve more than I already have


But I will grieve again tonight

And then again tomorrow

And if I ever love again,

I will grieve for you and the promise I made to you

That there will never be another man


I will grieve until the day we meet again

And when my last day of grief is over,

I will tell you that I've been waiting all these time

And everybody would stop asking

Why I never grieved the way they wanted me to

I Officially Hate Doors

I hate eating in places where there are glass doors

Because deep in my heart

And unknowingly

I'm still waiting for you to show up

To smile at me from afar as you make your way to where I sit

To ask me what I'm having

I'd tell you and you would say (like you always did)

"Kung anong gusto ng prinsesa ko" (whatever my princess wants)

And then a smile - that beautiful, angelic smile



2 months and 2 days since I last held you

I am dying to see you, love

How many more doors do I have to go through

Until I can run into your arms again?

How Time Flies

Before your diagnosis in February

Friend A was single and nursing a very broken heart

Friend B was pregnant and although having issues with her finances, she was very excited about the baby


Had lunch with them 2 weeks ago and found out that

Friend A is now with Friend C (they work for the same company) and they are very happy

Friend B got married, had her baby, and is now slowly trying to recover from her financial troubles


Before your diagnosis I was a happy wife, I was complete, I was whole and maybe a little more

Today, I'm a 29 year old widow


I have no will to live

I struggle daily

I have thought of jumping off a bridge

I still think about how our kids would've looked like if we were just given the chance to have them

I wonder why God thought taking you away from me was funny



A movie character once said

"If you love someone, you say it, right then, out loud. Otherwise, the moment just passes you by."

I told you didn't I

right then and there

out loud

that I loved you


I loved you very much


But still

the moment passed me by

and when I looked back at you

you were gone