LIGHT OF MY LIFE, FIRE OF MY LOINS
Of Love and Heartbreak, Loss and Learning Friday, June 19, 2015 at 7:15 PM

Loss is something that I can never get used to. 

It was different this time around. The reason is fairly acceptable, there was proper closure and we both knew it was for the best. Somehow, this propelled me forward and urged me to keep walking.  It is still a long way down the road, after all. It may be a lighter load to bear because the skies have cleared, albeit gloomy, but it hurts just the same. It shook me enough to question why God is punishing me again. However, when a storm ends, resilience begins in the aftermath. I cannot bring myself to be embittered by the Lord, for I have not latched on to Him at times when I should have surrendered myself in His hands. And I lay all of me to Him now.

I told myself that this is nothing, compared to the pain I have already endured, and the losses I have already suffered. Those losses have certainly served me well, for there is now greater room for acceptance, and a greater capacity to heal. I was able to recognize that true strength begins when I am willing to acknowledge that it is okay to show weakness, that it is okay to let people anchor me if I cannot set sail... At least, not yet. 

Mourning is cleansing. 

I shed tears, an ocean of it, because he is worth my tears. He is worth my sorrow, my anguish, my frustration and my devastation. But he is also worth my forgiveness, my understanding, and most of all, my love. 

Loss is something I can anticipate.  It may be in my blueprint to over analyze everything, but intuition or gut is something I have never ignored. Loss is not completely instantaneous nor does it always come as a surprise to me. In my case, I have always been prepared for it in forms I usually do not expect. One clear warning is when the passion begins to fade. It goes downhill from there, and then the inevitable strikes.

I am the type of person who is willing to give love to everyone and to show it in whatever way I could. At first I thought there is minimal impact in little acts of love and kindness, but when I became the recipient of it, I have never been so enlightened in its intensity and its ability to save. I have learned to never again underestimate the power of an outpouring of love people around me are willing impart. At times when I falter and I turn to someone for help, it has been a fear for me to burden people. But I am beyond blessed to be given such a solid support system, and that is a miracle in itself. I have been reminded countless times of my own worth by my family of blood and water, the worth that I am unable to see in myself ever since, but would be so willing to uncover when it comes to other people . What we seek also seeks us, and what we give comes back to us a thousandfold.

So what am I afraid of? What makes loss immensely crippling?

I have asked myself this countless times, and the bottom line has remained the same; I am scared to be alone. In essence, I am surrounded by a myriad of people, but it is not being alone per se that scares me. It is being lonely. Loneliness is daunting, because it makes the hours long, the metal lose its luster, and the world be bared of color. But what is so wrong about being alone? What is heartbreaking about a path of self-discovery, and a chance to be my best self?

Happiness is a conscious choice, and I will keep choosing it. The pursuit of it is not a walk in the park, nor is it consistently smooth sailing. Sometimes I can run. Sometimes I would have to crawl to it. Sometimes I will drown and sometimes the waves are not friendly. And that is what makes it so thrilling; the journey is as important as the destination.

Happiness may not be a perpetual state, but it is an endless adventure.

And here it comes, the secret of loss; you celebrate with it the abundance of what you have, the abundance of gain everyday. For in every heartbreak, in every failure, there are lessons learned. 
We are undeserving of His graces but we are showered by it in more ways than we can imagine. In the midst of it all, loss is nothing, and faith is everything.

I believe in the careful cosmic balance of the world. I believe in the seasons of life, and despite time being a social construct, there is a definitive time for everything. Time heals nothing. a renewed perception does.

Learning is cumulative, and I do not intend to forget. I intend to make use of every experience as a stepping stone to every road I will tread. I will tread lightly, with an unfazed passion, and a graceful renewal.

There is nothing to fear. Greater is coming.











Alone Friday, August 29, 2014 at 9:50 AM

This one time I became selfish,
this one time I am fighting my battle,
this one time I tear my heart out for you to see,
this one time I put myself above others,
this one time I allowed myself to fall,
this one time I let myself be weak,
this one time I tried to surrender,
this one time I struggled with the pain,
this one time I can finally release what's been bottled up,
this one time I have opened up my whole being,

it's still not about me.

And I have to live with the fact that it will never be.

I am not able.
I just thought I was.

And everything I believed in will come crashing down on me,
as I break in thousands to solid ground,
I will never know life without pain.

I will never know devotion
I was not made to be that way.
I was not made to be devoted for.

I was just made to devote myself.
I was made for others.
I was made to give myself
until nothing is left for me.

Who am I???? Friday, August 15, 2014 at 10:32 PM

I'm not sure what's wrong with me. Am I loved enough? Or is it because we don't come across in the same manner? I was okay until this happened. Am I this weak? This easy to break? Are may convictions not as strong as I thought they were?

Most of the time I want to be alone...  I want my space, I want my space to think and fill up the space with my words. I don't feel as loved as I was before... I don't think someone is capable of being crazily in love with me... I can't stun people the same way beautiful women can... And if I stun someone with my mind, it's always never genuine... They are drawn to me only for a while... What am I gonna do???? I don't know why I let myself swim in convenient attention... Am I that thirsty of a love I think I deserve? And when the love comes, I push it away because I think I am not worthy? So many thoughts are running in my head and I am having hard time trying to grasp all the ideas closing in on me... All the feelings I try to bury inside me... I am scared of people taking it out and making me see... That it is me... I'm in the wrong... I am overwhelmed... To the point that I can't take everything in... I'm scared to look weak... Because I have to be strong for people... Can someone help me???? I feel so useless... How come even if I try hard to be good.... No one still sees the good I try to be??? How come it's never enough??? Who am I really?????? Help me...

Less is More Saturday, July 19, 2014 at 9:13 AM

Beginning from my pre-teen years, there's always at least one other girl named Kat who is in the same class as I was. Kat or Katrina is quite a common name so it doesn't come as a surprise to me if there were one or more people who share my name. That's when I was given the nickname "Kat Zab" for the sake of proper identification.

But I was always the lesser Kat of the bunch. I was always the lesser Kat compared to the other Kat in class. I was barely recognized and the distinction wasn't really needed because, well, I didn't stand out. I was okay with that and I learned to live with it.

That all changed when I started writing. I actually don't remember how or why I started writing... I just did. I wasn't aware that apparently I had talent for it. Soon enough, I was better than the other Kats  who also wrote things.

And then I was back to the environment where writing wasn't the main skill that one should have. I was, yet again, the lesser Kat... In looks, in test scores, and generally people's choice... And I am okay with it. At least I thought I was.

Who decides that I am the lesser one anyway? I decide for myself. I guess it's time to decide otherwise.

I don't want to be the better Kat. I want to be that Kat where the other Kats don't even deserve a comparison with me.

Entangled Sunday, April 13, 2014 at 4:51 PM

I don't know how to live in lies. But to be able to keep you in my life, I am inevitably forced into it. I fear that the more I talk to you, the more I lose credibility, the more I lose the part of me that's real and true. That's why I try as much as I can to limit you in the side of myself that is foreign even to me.

But the truth is the easiest thing to remember, and I often forget. How can you live in such a way? Do you maintain a record of your pathological deception? The details to make everything seem less false? I wish I can help you, and I wish you'd let me.

Yet you never had a sense of accountability with my feelings, or anyone else's. There's not even a hint of remorse with the pain you've brought me, brought us. You never apologized for hurting me. And I've long accepted that. However, it's as if, because you feed me, support me financially, you can already do as you please with me. I'm more human and more alive than you think. I'm not an animal.

If you want to treat you like a father, treat me more like your child. You are missing the point of fatherhood. And you have skipped the very essence of it.

You have deprived me of a father-daughter connection all these years. And who am I, your mere child, to point that out? You consider yourself all knowing. And those kind of people are the hardest to get through.

I love you. And there are better ways for you to love me.

I still chose to love you despite it all. So, I suppose, you owe me that much.

Sunday, March 9, 2014 at 9:32 AM

Man of my life,

Whenever someone asks me how we met, I'm not sure how to answer them. I always settle with, "Sa Twitter," because that's where we started, as far as I remember.

I didn't fancy a fairy tale beginning. Not even the childhood sweetheart kind of thing. It also didn't cross my mind to make up something out of the ordinary that people will gush "Wow, that actually happens in real life." To me, how we started in the web; with you barely knowing me at all, commenting about how much I cussed (which was a little awkward, but I didn't mind)... Was special in its own way.

Because not being able to be with you in the flesh right away made me yearn for you. A lot. We had a connection right at the very moment you told me, "Don't get me wrong, but I find your profanity very amusing." You were randomly popping out of nowhere, always ready for small talk. Your enthusiasm over my nonsensical rants and blabbers sparked more conversations. We talked endlessly, and we never ran out of things to talk about, didn't we? I might not have said this to you before, but right then and there, I knew... That was the magic of it. You just know, I just knew.

Later on, we eased into more serious, intellectual conversations. I was already attracted to you by then, I suppose... Being elated that I found someone who's on the same wavelength as I. You fitting into my life was seamless; it never felt forced. It was even the exact opposite. 

Eventually, and inevitably, words weren't enough anymore. I longed to see you, to touch you, to get lost in your scent and everything that would make you feel more real. It gave me flutters, thinking about it for days on end.

That day finally came. The first time I saw you, it was that same feeling again, only intensified; I just knew. I knew you were made for me. One look at your eyes and I knew that I had to have you.

That's why, in the heart of it all, I'm thankful for whatever manner we met, because what truly matters to me is that we did.

Always, 
Kat



Maybe Saturday, March 8, 2014 at 4:18 AM

I can't find my voice. I've been searching for it ever since I've decided that I have actual talent for writing. For needed validation, a few people have told me that I, as a matter of fact, do.... Although I kept on doubting it. Now, what should I do with it? "Believe it," someone said. That was momentarily uplifting, and I tried; I kept on trying.

I wanted to write for children. But I didn't want to downgrade my writing to match up the stereotyped intellect of the youth. Before even starting to do so, I began to question myself again. Was I old enough to write for children? Would I be able to raise a distinction between childhood and adulthood? What kind of wisdom can I impart to the young, who are a curious bunch with an unquenchable thirst for learning?

And then I wanted to write about love. But... There is always a but. There is always something that doesn't add up to the equation. Did I experience enough about love to write about it? Is it really okay to romanticize pain from love, for this is the kind of writing I feel I can portray effectively? Is it okay to write about love, only to shape it into a tragedy?

I don't know what to write. I was never sure of anything, anyway.

I lacked purpose. Why do I write in the first place? Is it for my own satisfaction? Is it to give a voice to those incapable of language, but have so much to say? Is it to ease myself of troubling thoughts?

Or is it simply all of the above?

I don't know.

I don't know.

I'm lost.
©