Life is really a turn of events, and sometimes, what we think is happening is way far from reality. Sometimes, our eyes may not even see the ordinary things.
Sometimes, a heart can even go wrong.
I never could have anticipated that he would feel this way, that he would forgive me readily and easily, without so much as a word of pleading on my part. He loves me much that he can’t even make me beg for his forgiveness. He loves me so beyond understanding that he does not want to see me remorseful. It is a revelation that me speechless, grappling with the enormity of his grace and forgiveness, even the face of my own shortcomings and failings.
I can see now how my anger and resentment blinded me, driving me to lash out in that I now regret. I allowed myself to be consumed by the darkness of my own , choosing to live in the oblivion of my own assumptions rather than facing truth of my father's love and concern for me. Just how can I ever be in this life?
If only I had seen this sooner, if only I had allowed myself to see beyond the veil of own anger and pride, perhaps things could have been different. Perhaps I could spared myself—and my father—the pain and heartache that comes from resentment and misunderstanding.
Everything could have been so different now.
Looking at him as he closes his eyes to sleep, I cannot help but wonder how things have unfolded. If I stayed back here, would he have reconsidered marrying me to that ghost betrothed? Would anything have changed if I didn't run away? Where I be? All that I have no idea, but there are two things I am sure of- I wouldn't met Damian, and my father would probably have not fallen this ill.
More than shock, it was the fear of losing another soul and the only family that I had that numbed me. And that is how I found myself this morning on a flight back .
Upon getting here, I am afraid that my grandpa’s condition seems worse than what the explained over the phone. He is not sick, but terribly sick. Pain is all that is on his dark face. Even in his sleep, he seems like he is still haunted by the .
Looking at him, I feel guilty and responsible.
He looks terrible—like he is losing the battle—but I condemn that thought with all the and might in me. I can’t lose another soul. He can’t just leave me. Forget the and the bitterness. Right now, I just know one thing - I can not bear to bury the member of my family. He has to conquer this. For us.
All those times he sent for me. All that he did to lure me back. Had he changed his about the agreement? Does that agreement still stand? Is that what he wants to about? That I still have to honor their end of the bargain? Or that he understands beliefsdisrespectful and principles and he now respects them?
The weight of my father's expectations bears down on me like a suffocating blanket, me beneath its oppressive force. I am paralyzed by fear, by the sense of duty and obligation that binds me to him, shackling me to a I never asked for and cannot escape. I want nothing more than to make him proud, spare him any further heartaches or disappointments, but at what cost?
I am deeply torn between my feelings for him and a tremendous need in my heart for more—for a life of my own making, free of the limitations of tradition and . But the mere thought of opposing him, of saying that two-letter word that the power to break his heart, fills me with a gut-wrenching fear that threatens to me. I know I can't afford to be disrespectful, callous, and reckless again. I simply unable to.
I cannot bear the thought of causing him any more pain, any more heartaches than he already endured. I want nothing more than to see him happy, to witness the spark joy return to his weary eyes, but in doing so, I fear I will lose myself in the process.
On the other hand, there is Damian—my love, the rock that holds me in this sea of . His presence gives me a sense of warmth and belonging that I have never before, but he cannot protect me from the storm raging within me. I am torn my allegiance to my father and my desire for a future with Damian, between love I have for both of them, and the heartbreaking choice that lies ahead of me.
In the depths of my misery, I find myself confronted with questions I never expected face—questions of loyalty, duty and obligation, and sacrifice. What is the price I willing to pay for love?
And you know what the most? It is knowing that in the end, no matter what I choose do, one of the people that I love the most is deemed to get hurt. And not even my was guaranteed when I chose my father over Damian. This hurts. This .
That reminds me that I was to call Damian once I got to the airport but I didn't. I call him now perhaps, but I left my phone in my purse and I can't leave my 's side. Maybe I should call him after I listen to what my father has to say about betrothed. It pains me because I am missing Damian. He is my solace in such a , but he will have to wait. And I hope against all that I hold dearest to that this is the end for Damian and me. This can't be it, right?