broken barriers

one.

It was 11:31 in the evening when I received a text message that pierced my heart. Tears rapidly went down my face.

It came from Mr. Gutierrez, Mildred's father, saying that she was sent to the hospital at the University of Santo Tomas. Mildred was diagnosed with lung cancer. Water was accumulating inside her lungs that gave her a hard time to breathe. After his father sent the message, it followed a photograph of her, lying in bed, unconscious and intubated. It was hard to look at as I felt pity and depressed on how she looked in that photo. Her skin was pale white, blue and red wires were entangled on her thin, weakening arms.

Only if I could go outside the seminary. Only if I could go outside to visit her. But I guess the only thing that I can do for her is to pray.

Late at night, I walked down the peaceful hallways of the seminary in Makati. And when I visited the chapel, I went down in front and kneeled right before Him.

My heart was aching so bad that I already wanted to rip it out of my chest. The pain has been wanting me to end myself. Endless sobs came out of my stupid self. I should've told her that I loved her the first time I saw her.

Lord, I'm sorry. I thought I really am destined to serve you with my whole life. But, then I realized that I can serve you while I'm loving Mildred with my entire life.

Then I heard a deep, holistic voice inside the four walls of the chapel.

...

If Mildred really is the one for you, go out of this institution and tell those things you've wanted to say to her. You can still serve for Him as you have your own family, praising their whole lives for the Lord.

It's a 'him,' not 'Him.'

It was Grimaldi. The Italian accent was really hard to distinguish. The voice that I heard was so familiar as how Jesus spoke to his Disciples. It was indescribable.

I wiped my tears quickly and changed my sobbing voice into my usual one. "I thought you were already asleep?"

"Your crying made me curious but I wasn't surprised when you ran to the nearby chapel," he said, smiling towards me as if he was saying that I did the right thing: approach the Lord when you're in pain.

"I'm sorry, Reverend, if I seem to bother you." I stood up as I approached him.

"Well, Mario, what are you waiting for? Isn't it time to go to her?" Grimaldi asked as he was also worried.

"But, Reverend, tomorrow is the day when I am going to be ordained. I can't go," I told him as I felt hopeless at the moment.

"You can leave. It's okay. I'll tell them first thing in the morning. Go pack and leave, before it's too late," he ordered. "If all that you are asking is my permission, yes, you may."

I embraced the empathic Reverend as he hugged me back as well. He patted me at the back and I left him inside the chapel. I ran as fast as I could through the quiet corridors of the dormitory that I have been staying in for a very long time.

...

As I was packing all of my stuff in my room, the last thing I grabbed was her photograph when she graduated in college at the University of the Philippines-Diliman. Wearing a white, laced off-shoulder topped with a diamond-studded brooch on the plunging neckline. The maroon sablay that she wore was embroidered with yellow, foreign but ethnic letters or alibata with a touch of olive green borders. The back drop was a navy blue gradient, fading at each of the sides, and at the center was the only thin which the shade of blue was visible. Her face was entirely fierce and brave. A look that will strike the hearts of men. A look that I will always remember. A person that I cannot forget. I placed her framed photo on top of my neatly folded clothes, and zipped my luggage bag closed.

At 12:24 in the morning, I went out of the dormitory building and saw Grimaldi wearing a dark, furry coat to warm himself in the cold, Makati midnight air.

"I have hailed you a cab to UST. Go see her now," he said. The taxi driver assisted me to place my luggage bag at the trunk of taxi cab. Then as I looked at Grimaldi, he handed me something. A relic that was authentic. A pearl rosary from Our Lady of Mary Mediatrix of All Grace Parish. It was already familiar. He grabbed my wrist and I opened my hand. He placed the rosary on my cold palm and gripped my hands closed. "Keep it," he said.

I already went inside the vehicle, leaving the Reverend behind. The glimmering lights of the city has shone right through my very eyes as the gates have opened by the guards. I'm going out already, I thought. I'm going back to the world that I have lived in when I was still a child.