War of Hearts

one

Gratitude.

How come we always tend to overlook life's graces over its unfortunes? Is it wrong to solely focus on the violence life has caused us, or do we have to delude ourselves into thinking that we should be grateful to simply be able to live and breathe the moment we wake up? Believe me I am. Everyday, I'm battling with the idea of wanting to complain yet stop the moment I realized I have food on my table and roof on my head. Now I feel guilty for not appreciating these things today because I know others do not have these luxuries. I guess I'm not quite as good with handling my emotions the way others think so. I'm just great at concealing it.

The moment Im not distracted with homeworks, commisions and other things that fills up this little head of mine, or once I feel the comfort of my bed I realized, I'm at rock bottom.

I have no one but myself in this room, in this condo, not until my cousin decided to live with me two years ago. So now I have Julio Alistair, and his monthly flings whoever they are. Fortunately, I dont have to remember their names or faces since I'm introduced with a different guy every month. Julio, is a cousin of mine, mother's side. He's a headache, too playful, and still acts like he is going through adolescence when he's already in his early 30s. But at least I have him. He's basically my only family. At least the only who considers me as one.

I am a product of a one night stand, a careless decision, a mistake. I took away her youth, killed her beauty queen and modeling dreams. I was born out of guilt. She could've killed me when she had the chance. Well, those were just a few out of many outbursts I heard from my mother. I dont mind not living especially not with her. I didnt ask to be here, i answered her once, all i got were bruises and scratches. My father, on the other hand, pursued his dreams, he's a neurosurgeon in Ireland. We're not exactly close but he wasn't like my mother. I guess that's what it means to be a man. You dont carry the guilt, the shame, and well, me. He was able to go on with his life as long as he performs his "responsibilities" well.

Im now living with Julio in a condo that Señora Greta, mama's mother, gave me at my 18th birthday, as a gift or maybe her way of just setting me free from the strong grudge mother has towards me. Im not very close with her, she provides necessities and money but that's all she offers. She's strict and stern. Sometimes she scares me more than my mother, cause even Mama's scared of her. Not that she lets me know that she's scared, but she scratches her hands and bites her nails erratically once she knows Señora will visit from the province, Iloilo. Now, I live close to her but away from Mama, I think Señora wants to keep me around because Im obedient, and of course, to keep the family's dirty laundry stays hidden. I guess that's why she suggested to let Julio stay with me, as well. We're both dirty laundries. Señora pays for my education, with conditions to have grades not lower than (90) 1.75, if i do get a grade of 2 (86-89), she'd give me a few words of profanity, that's all. But words do cut deeper than physical harm. She doesnt like to waste her money on failures. Not that money is an issue; she's a businesswoman who runs a few commercial buildings, and Señor used to be a politician before he died.

My relationship with my mother is better than it used to. She's still a bit controlling, at least now she's islands away to manipulate me. While Papa calls me once a month to check if I'm alive, and gives me generous monthly allowance. Im grateful for that. He's not strict or anything, his condition was the same to never fail a class. He hates mama and knows how abusive she can get but I guess as long as I'm alive he doesnt mind at all. I called him once crying that mama struck me. I was 5 then. He's not emotional, not that it affects him. But his reputation might stain if he's painted as an irresponsible father. So he sometimes try to console me — understand her, or just dont listen at all, he said. I stopped complaining about mama to papa around 11, the age I realized I have no one else to rely on but myself. I did live in a mansion, pretty to look at but hideous memories to look back on. I do have a house but not once felt like home. Mama stayed in Manila, she works as a host in a morning talk show in a known tv network here in the Philippines.