You Bear the Consequences

You bear the consequences of your decisions. - the Better Half

I remember sitting in the classroom during the PT retreat.

"God doesn't want what you want to give Him," Father said, "He wants what you don't want to give Him. In possessing it, He possesses you entirely."

I know. I still have it written down in my notebook. It didn't take me more than an instant to know what, or more accurately who, I didn't want to give. I couldn't. The calls from the phonebox. The thrill of her voice at every phonecall. The 'ilu' at every end of the conversation. Even the silences we had, just knowing that the other person was on the other end of the line, halfway across the world. There was no feeling of guilt or shame. There was just the knowledge of loving her with everything I had, despite where I was and my circumstance.

No, it's not meant to be some dramatic statement, just a simple matter of fact.

I didn't give her up in the end. Quite the contrary. I found out where my place was, and that I needed her. The ironic thing is that He took her away all the same. She realised that she didn't need me for life to go on. That without me the sun would still shine, the flowers would still bloom, and the birds would still sing. As for me, crazily/funnily enough, I found that although the sun would still go on shining, the world was still dim. That although the flowers would still go on blooming, they weren't as colourful as they used to be. And although the birds would go on singing, the song was less sweet somehow.

I can't help feeling that I have been led on some wild goose chase. I followed my faith, and it led me to my heart. I followed my heart, and it led me into darkness. Sure, I guess you could say that it was a journey of self-discovery, that I found out what I truly wanted. But what is the point of discovering all that and finding out that the better half doesn't need you? The hardest words for anyone to hear are "I don't love you in the same way anymore". And I pray that whoever stumbles upon this never hears them.

The curious thing is, the more my heart breaks and the more it bleeds, the more find out that I love her. Call me weak. Pathetic. Stupid. Dumb. Unrealistic. Whatever.

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz, or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off. I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul. I love you as the plant that never blooms but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers; thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance, risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body. I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride; so I love you because I know no other way than this: where I does not exist, nor you, so close that your hand on my chest is my hand, so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

I think that when my time comes, I'll show my wasted heart to Him and say, "This is how much I have loved."



We must love while we suffer, and we must suffer if we love. - St Jean Marie Vianney