The Green Turtle
To fall in love is like falling on the clouds – misty, soft, warm, comfy, happy, and the feeling they call *love*…but when you fall out, it’s like falling on a rough, ragged edge, rocky cliff – hard, cold, detestable, and painful. When you look at this ideology, love is more of a game, a gamble. You’ve got 3 probabilities; first a win-win situation, it’s when you find your one true love and you two can live happily ever after, just like the fairy tales do! ;D; second, a win-lose situation, when there’s a balance between the happiness and the hurt, yes you’ve got your heart broken but it’s worth it because you’ve learned, you’re stronger and you did enjoy the relationship (at least you did gain and lost at the same time.); third is a lose-lose situation, aaw! It’s bitter and very painful; when you seem not to get over the hurt, lurk in the room and cry all day and all night, you pity yourself, you hate yourself (for loving that person..?) and often leads to suicide. Poor soul!…And amazingly through love you can name true *victors*, not Achilles, not Alexander the Great, but YOU because once in your life you did fell in love…
♀♀♀
Imagine this scenario: a man and a lady spending an afternoon at the park. The man’s head rests on the lady’s lap and the man would say "The time you will love me, that’s the time I would die."
It’s actually the climax of Katherine Mansfield’s *A Dill Pickle*. Romantic on the way it is delivered but there is irony. It seems that the lady does not share the equal passion, the equal love with the man. And the man, a same-old-martyr, loves the lady so much that he would die for that love…loving a person who can never love you back…
Love itself is irony; disguised in simple situations. You hate it when he calls you sexy when you know that you’re a bit chubby but you love it because it flatters you so much. You hate it when she nags but you love it because those words are of love, care and concern. How ironic love can get, no one knows, but you sure gonna love that irony…
♀♀♀
I once read that when you fall in love, it is not sense alone, nor sensibility alone, but both *sense and sensibility*, both mind and heart, respectively…
Ira woke up in the morning with the same consciousness of misery in which she had closed her eyes, with the same tears she fell asleep with…misery such as hers has no pride…indeed, she’s a poor soul…
The confinement of the four walls of her room conceals every bit of pain she has. The walls have ears, and only them are the witnesses of such wretchedness. Pain is painted all over her room – hectic red blood blurring the transparency of her soul. Her pillows in which she lays her head are now oceans of tears – absorbing every drop that escaped her eyes.
She now turns to the left, to face the sun, letting the rays touch her pale face. The light is blinding so she had to close her eyes. Yes, blinding, like the truth she thought had escaped…
Two weeks back, Ira is filled with all the joy she could find. She’s blissful and she’s single, and she loves the freedom. She’s doing great actually, then one night; a proposal awoke the pain she thought was already part of the past. A certain guy wanted to be her companion, and for some uncertain reason tears fell. No, that pain wasn’t over, it never was finished. "Ivan, nasan ka na ba?” escaped her lips between sobs…
Ivan is her bestfriend. He shares equal interests with her – Harry Potter, cards, writing journals, G…It’s only him who could fathom her depth, understand her silence, and decipher her quotations…They loved with no formality; Ivan had a girlfriend then. Ouch!
Ira was hurting at the same time in love. To others, Ivan is one selfish boy for loving two, but it turned out that is Ira he loves more and still loving her though they can’t be together because of unfavorable circumstances. Ira had given up on Ivan and let him be happy with his girlfriend and without her. She doesn’t want to but she must. She moved on easily with the help of her new-found friends that always tend to make her smile every moment – funny fellas she have, overwhelming with stories and jokes and don’t forget a little magic (hi brian! How’s the chikas goin?☺). James is the closest to her (hi’yo jame-see! miss yah dude! ^-^), he advised her not to take things too seriously, just go with the d**n flow, do nothing, let fate decide, and accept what the result would be. Paulo, her psych friend (ui mr. sungit..you do look better in that green shirt, fwamis!^-^) told her to *think twice before acting and above all, play safe*! And so she did…The result turned out to be loving her new life…She let go of Ivan, her butterfly…The pain passed by in a matter of a month or two…Her new environment forbids her to cry, motivates her to override the waves, changed her attitude somehow…
She thought the pain was done, but it wasn’t. It was just tinged by happy moments in her new environment. No, it wasn’t over because it still lingers on. She cries because she thought she had moved on, because her heart tells her to, because she can’t find the reason for the agony she feels, because she can’t avoid the truth, because she did love him so… :'(Tears of regret, tears of pity (self-pity..?). Pain, misery, bitterness was all over her – eating and accumulating every part of her. She displays the cardinal symptoms – she’s pale, she’s cold (the adverse of calor), her heart swells, she’s red in blood and can’t function properly. She uses suppression, a defense mechanism, so her feelings won’t interfere with her studies. Ira is a helpless crybaby with no direction, a paranoid ninny…
One song spells our how she feels but as the song says – *this song ain’t even half of what I’m feeling inside*. Right now she wants nothing but to watch her butterfly, how it flies without her, how it jumps from flower to flower, how lively it looks as it bats its wings. Ira just do. She miss her butterfly…
Ira now stares at the ceiling where her mini milky way lies. Her favorite constellation is Cassiopeia, the irregular "W"…She remembers how she and Ivan used to watch the night sky together, making wishes as a falling star flew past. She flashes a smile, that one that she haven’t worn for a long time. *como dos cometas en la misma estela; y tu asi serias lo que yo de me reflejo* - like two comets in the same galaxy; we are like mirror image of each other. That used to be Ivan and her, used to be, that used to be…
What Ira feels is a torture of penitence without a hope of amendment. Enough of her overflowing sensibility, sense is required now. She’ll get nothing but tears when she continues to worry, there’s no use for that. She’ll run mad as often as she chose, but she’ll NEVER faint, never…A wild horse like her should run unbridled to keep the spirit in fire. She’ll get hope when and where she wants it. All she wants is just something to hold onto, that’s all she needs, is that too much to ask?..
Ira now stands up from her bed, cuddles her green turtle, walks to the window and opens it widely. "Minsan lang ngumiti ang araw kung tag-ulan, dapat samantahalin, dapat sulitin, baka hindi mo na makita ulet…I’ll watch my butterfly from here, and wait for my dragonfly to come…"