Sometimes, Stars

Everything and nothing in intensifying degrees.

That is what a sleepless night could bring.

It was October then too, about 15 years ago. I don’t remember what date it was exactly, but I remember we had a feast day in school. A Mother Ignacia Day or a celebration for the month of the Holy Rosary, I’m not sure. The dates have become fuzzy and I suppose at the time, the numbers did not matter to us. But I do remember sneaking out of the house late that night to meet up at Jing’s house in Banica. I do remember clumsily mounting a pigpen and a fence to climb a tree, and then heaving myself up to a rooftop. Although, I don’t remember how I later managed to get myself down. I remember I was in a really baggy shirt and a pair of shorts that don’t match. I also remember the blanket we laid out for ourselves and the wish-list in my head as I was doing all of this.

It was going to be a special night, you see.

Earlier that week we had heard of a meteor shower coming our way and we had spent quite some time planning for it, and when it was truly, truly happening I didn’t think I’d ever see anything more beautiful. Hundreds and hundreds of stars falling from the sky to disappear too soon. Too soon that as they were passing us by, I’ve forgotten my wish list completely. It wasn’t important anymore. My selfish desires were just no longer as important as savouring that wondrous moment for what it was.

Without judgement or expectations.

Like falling in love.

A selfless unconditional acceptance that is fulfilling by itself.

It’s sad how I could only realize too late how clean and spotless my life was. I don’t think we realized then how lucky we were to have seen such a miracle. And I truly believed then that I’d never see anything more beautiful.

Until I saw Promise’s eyes for the first time.

There are stars there too, even during the day.

But then again, Promise has managed to disprove so many of my misconceptions by her mere existence; has broken so many of my barriers with just a heartbeat.

I don’t know what it is that’s making me all nostalgic. I suppose it’s because I live in a city where there are barely any stars, either because the city smog is too thick or because I rarely ever look up anymore. My other differential for the wistfulness is that I’m PMS-ing, but that’s not a very pretty subject to talk about.

So tonight I did look up. I was wide awake at midnight, thinking too much about nothing and everything, feeling just as lost as I’ve ever been, wanting to be found or wanting to find something, which basically says the same thing. Sleep was evading me and the silence was comforting. But I had to look hard just to see one star.

Just one.

In this land of barely any stars, filled with people who've stopped looking for them.

But it was enough to remind me of that long ago night when there were thousands shooting across the sky and of the version of me that was simply and unconditionally happy to be a part of it.

I don’t know why, but I feel like I’ve lost something.

It’s been almost 15 years and I’m not sure if I’ve changed much. Where are those friends with whom I shared that night? Just there, thanks to Facebook. So near yet so far. I wonder sometimes if they’ve forgotten, or if it brings them the same painfully beautiful memories.

I don’t know why but I feel like I’ve lost something.

Another year is about to end and there are still some unfinished business that remains so. A ball and chain I drag with me in this secret suffering that comes with the heaven that is my one great love. How is it possible for something that brings such great happiness to come with an equally heart-wrenching fear and pain? I watch my daughter sleeping and I ask myself, how do I explain my choices to her when the time comes? How do I tell her of today when it dawns on her to ask? Will the truth hurt her or will it make her strong? Will I have taught her enough so that she can embrace it and still be whole? I want to do right by her and in doing so I trudge on rocky paths.

And my God, what is this indescribable fear that something could harm her and wound her forever and make her sad and that I wouldn't be able to bear it? And am I ever, ever going to get used to the wonder of her?

…

Everything and nothing in intensifying degrees.

That is what a lonely night could bring.

And sleep is just around the corner.

Having coffee with the answers to my questions.

I’ll catch up with them soon and I’m sure to order a cappuccino, tall, fat-free, with an extra kick.

And we’ll laugh at how silly I've become, asking questions to which I've always known the answers.

And tomorrow they’d be gone again when I wake: the peace that comes with Sleep and the Answers.

And the feeling that I've lost something will be just as real.

And yet, I’m still quite certain that the world is a good place.

If only for the midnight and the starlight in my daughter’s eyes.

My universe...

My covenant…

And my deepest prayer…