A Safe Haven

01

I sat on the edge of my bed, staring blankly at the elaborate chandelier that hung from the ceiling.

Ang mansyon ay nakakatakot na tahimik, ang katahimikan na nagpalakas ng aking mga iniisip at ang aking kalungkutan.

Nilibot ko ang paningin ko sa paligid ng room ko, pinagmamasdan ang malinis na puting wall, ang perfect ng pagkakaayos ng mga furniture, at ang mga luxurious decor. Ito ay isang room na kinaiinggitan ng sinuman, a room that exuded wealth and privilege.

But to me, it was just another reminder of how empty my life had become.

I sighed, my chest heavy with a familiar ache.

I should have been used to this by now—the loneliness, the isolation, the endless cycle of waking up and going to bed alone. But no matter how many days or years passed, the emptiness never seemed to fade. If anything, it only grew more suffocating with time.

Nag-buzz ang phone ko sa nightstand kaya napatigil ako sa pag-iisip.

Saglit akong nag-alinlangan bago inabot, medyo nanginginig ang mga daliri ko habang inaabot.

Hindi ko na kinailangan pang tumingin sa screen para malaman kung ano iyon—isang notification mula sa GCash, the virtual wallet my parents used to send me money.

I swiped the screen and sure enough, there it was:

GCash:
You have received PHP 50,000.00 from Dad.

Fifty thousand pesos. For most people, that would be a small fortune.

It was more than enough to cover my expenses for the month, enough to buy anything I wanted or needed. But as I stared at the notification, a wave of sadness washed over me.

Is this all I am to them?

I wondered, my heart sinking as the realization hit me once again.

Sa mga magulang ko, ako ay walang iba kundi isang financial obligation, a line item in their budget that they could easily check off by sending money.

They believed that money could replace love, that it could fill the void their absence had created in my life. But they were wrong.

I tossed the phone onto the bed, unable to look at the screen any longer.

It was a painful reminder of everything I didn’t have—everything I had always wanted but could never seem to grasp. Love, affection, a sense of belonging. These were the things I craved, the things I needed to feel whole. But instead, all I ever got was money.

The tears I had been holding back all day began to well up in my eyes, blurring my vision.

I blinked rapidly, trying to force them back, but it was no use. They spilled over, hot and heavy, tracing wet paths down my cheeks. I buried my face in my hands, my shoulders shaking as I sobbed quietly.

Why can't I just be happy?

I thought miserably, the question echoing in my mind.

Why can't I be grateful for what I have?

But no matter how much I tried to convince myself that I should be content, that I should be thankful for the life I had, the truth was that I wasn’t. I was miserable. And it wasn’t because of the money, the mansion, or the privileges I had been given. It was because I was alone.

I stood up from the bed, pacing the room as if the movement could somehow ease the pain in my chest. But it didn’t help. The ache remained, a constant reminder of how empty my life had become.