God bless the broken-hearted.

broken hearted roses

It’s not eavesdropping; I just can’t close my ears to the things I don’t want to hear. From Rimando Road, I took a jeepney ride to town and sat beside a man and a woman who seemed to have not seen each other for years. They were cordially catching up to the lost times by telling their own life stories, not minding the people around. The man was already married for eight years and had two children. However, his wife and the mother of his children left them because of reasons he does not understand. He explained that despite that, he loves his wife very much. It does not matter even if people call him a martyr or a plain stupid. He believes with all his heart, that someday somehow, she will be coming back. He said:

“Kapag mahal mo, mahal mo talaga, mapapatawad mo.”

I glanced at him and I saw that he was on the verge of tears. I closed my eyes and held back my own tears; I asked myself, how can he be so stupid? But then I knew I had no right to judge him, I myself is no expert of all the things he said. I had no choice but to continue listening.

“He continued to describe true love to be something unconditional. It’s simply love despite all faults.”

That is, you give without expecting something in return. It may hurt big time, “Pero ganun talaga,” he exclaimed with a face of sadness. I too exhaled a big sigh of sympathy. Then I woke up to my consciousness and realized that the jeepney almost got passed Centermall, my destination. I quickly said a silent prayer for him and shouted to the driver, “Uncle, para!”

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