Another Way Around

Chapter Twenty Two

I left our house around 5:00 in the morning. The sun is still on its way up. I walked around the village just to get some exercise. I sunk myself at work just to forget all the painful things that happened these past few months, so I just want to relax this whole weekend.

I sat on a bench at Ever Park after jogging. I drink water and grasp for air. I looked at the clouds and they are already lighting up, I looked at the trees and flowers and they looked happy to see the sun arising up again giving the morning a fresh hope from yesterday’s broken dreams.

Till now, I am not in the place I wanted to be. But less stressful by this time. I ponder on things, I realized that since the day I entered this career, I was dying to be somebody else therefore forgetting who I really am and not noticing I am already becoming the person I promised I will never be.

I stop playing piano, I don’t have enough time for my family, I’m embarrassed to admit but I quit on many things that made me happy before just because I wanted to prove something on myself and before I know it, I was somebody else. So I got up one morning and cleaned my piano that has inches of dust. I started playing again. I went to bookstore and bought music sheets, music notebook and some inspiring books for instrumentalists and pianist. I also called Bea, the community organizer. I said I wanted to volunteer again and she is happy to accept my help. I also organized a small barbeque party at our backyard to have some quality time with my family and friends. Mum and Ali helped me. We invited Aunt Laura and her daughters, some of our cousins and also Susan and her son. Then we do that every weekend. I went out with my college buddies, Kate, Leslie and Justine. We went to parties and concerts, watched movies and drive around the town during our day offs. I went to shopping malls and bought new clothes, shoes and bags so that I will feel good again. I traveled. I went to Hongkong, Bangkok and Switzerland. I read lot of good books. I actually don’t have space to keep them all so I went to community library and donate some. Of course I kept my favorite. The ones with Gino’s note which I read every single day. I also glued some of the roses Gino gave me and framed them. I hanged them around our house, on the living room, dining room, on my room, even on Mum’s room, I also gave some to Aunt Laura and she loved it. I looked at the one I hanged on my room every day. It was dead and dry, yet there is still a little hope inside my heart, that one day, Gino will give me a fresh red rose once again, or just one more time.

Sun is already rising up brightly so I decided to go home for breakfast. On my way home, I passed BitterSweet’s. It’s been a long time since I had meal in this lovely restaurant. So I decided to have my breakfast here.

I ordered my favorite, blueberry muffins and hot chocolate. As I eat my meal, my favorite painting strikes through inside me. That painting is the exact reason why I love this place. The painting of a girl playing piano in the rain.

That painting.

It was painted by my Dad when I was 5 years old. He said that I was the girl on the painting. He said that he wanted me to be like it that can still stand and play music whether on a good or bad weather.

He died when I was seven. And when Mum doesn’t have any more money to buy us food, she sell some of our things on the auction including some paintings of my Dad. When I’m 15 years old, this place was built, and to my surprise, I saw my Dad’s painting. I asked the manager about the painting, I said I wanted to buy it at any cost but they insist to keep it because it gave the essence to their restaurant picturing their theme, the sweetness and bitterness of life. Then I remember what Dad told me and Ali, that no matter where we are, we should always, in any way possible, we should touch lives. So I just allow them to keep it believing that many people will be inspired by my Dad’s work. And that is something to be proud of.

As I looked at my Dad’s painting, I recalled why I wanted to be a writer in the first place.

“Hello Miss Castillo,” a soft voice from my back called.

“Oh Sir Albert, Good morning,” I greeted and offered a seat. He is my prof. back in college who doesn’t love talking.

“You seem to be pondering on something deep.”

“Yes sir. After many years, I now recall why I wanted to be a writer.”

“I asked you before about that. Is your answer the same?”

“No sir. I now believed that money or fame can never really bring you real satisfaction. Before, I thought being a great writer and having all my works spread all over the world, read by both young and wise old people will give me a wonderful feeling of success. But I learned that great writers, after some time, I continued, “were also forgotten.”

“So what then?” he asked.

“I wanted to be a writer not because I wanted to impress anyone, or even myself. But I wanted to be a writer because I wanted somehow, in any way possible, to touch people’s lives and somehow, someone may touch mine. Touching people’s heart will make them not to forget you.”

Sir Albert smiled to me, “You’ve really grown Miss Castillo. You now want it for the right reason.”

“I learned that from my Dad”

“He will be very proud of you young lady.”

I went home happy and started to write.

It took me weeks to finish my first novel, but I know it will be worth it. I passed it at Palm Pen Publishing Company. Weeks passed and they never called me. But still, I feel great inside. Knowing that I’ve done something wonderful after my life’s dark era. Maybe it’s now time to move on and start over. I can never change what happened, or change where and whom I’d been with that hurt me and I hurt back. But maybe forgiving them and asking for forgiveness can help me make a step ahead from my sad life.

I read again Gino’s note for me in a leaflet of my favorite book. Then I grab my laptop and started writing him through e-mail.

Oct. 31

10:17 AM

Gino,

It’s been a long time since you left me and the place where we made wonderful moments.

 Back from high school, I’d been rude to you because you are a weird one with uninteresting stuffs. But when I got to know you, I’ve come to know how nice and cool you are. We became friends, we went to places and we did things I will never forget and moments I will always treasure. But time passed by. You are right, our choices changed our fate. We went different paths; we chose different roads that led us to push away each other.

I then became miserable and weak.

 Very weak

I entered into a relationship I was never sure. I’m doing a job I was never happy, while you, fulfilling your dreams. Dreams without me and dreams away from me. You don’t know how much I prayed for your happiness. And I am happy to know that you are now at the top of your dreams. I am happy for you but I cannot completely feel that way. I know I hurt you but I want you to know that I was hurt to and until now I was hurting. The cut was so deep that I don’t think any amount of time can ease the pain.

As day passes, I realized how stupid I am that it took me so long to realize that I love you.

I know we can’t just go back but I will keep on praying that the hope you said you have won’t completely die, now that the bridges between us had fallen apart and waves in the ocean were overwhelming us, may we find a way to come back to each other’s arms and say “Home at last”,

someday..

somehow.

But for now, our story either ends here or to be continued.

If it’s the end, I want you to know that I love you. I always do.

And if it’s to be continued….

I will wait for you.

-Gabrielle