On this occasion, I choose to write about love. (Sabay hawi ng hair.) I always remember love when it's Halloween. It was Halloween when I broke up with my last BF. That was five years ago. Seems like a long time na noh?
For many years I was too occupied with work to even think of, much less have the time and energy for, dating again. I thought being in a relationship just too much effort. Besides, I was very fortunate to have been surrounded with amazing, amazing friends with whom I emotionally connected on such astounding proportions. So there, I settled in the wonderful company of my friends not noticing the years of singlehood slipping by.
Looking deeper, however, I've always had this immense fear of opening my self to the prospect of loving. For a time, I completely swore it off, especially when I was still fresh from my breakups. It's not really loving that petrifies me but it's aftermath. I've never seen a worse version of my self as when my relationships end. All my weaknesses and vulnerabilities resurface. For five years pride kept me away from all that.
But then sometimes, if we don't watch ourselves, we slip into the precipice of falling in love. When we land at the bottom with a thud that's when we have to lick your wounds and wait for our cuts and bruises to heal.
Much as I loathe going through that mending phase again, I have never discovered so much of my views on relationships as when I was reeling from my latest brush with love. It jolted me to confront, reassess, and redefine my perspective related to amour. I had the chance to challenge my vanity and my pride, together with seriously questioning my fears. These are the walls that not until recently I refused to pry open.
And as what the supreme Barbra Streisand said: We're children, needing other children / And yet letting our grown-up pride / Hide all the need inside / Acting more like children / Than children. Check out this vintage Barbra singing People in Funny Girl.