Love in the Time of Vanity Fair

Chapter 18: Life Magazine

Emotion as human nature is infrangible. It serves an adaptive purpose for survival. As humans, we are faced with an array of emotions every single day throughout our entire lives. The most profound of them all are love and grief.

Grief and Love.

Erich Fromm once said that "love is an act of will, judgment, intention, and promise". Grief on the other hand has been described as an intense reaction to loss.

Two strong words that juxtapose each other. One would wonder how it is possible to place something that brings us so much joy beside something that causes us so much pain.

It shouldn't be possible. Except that it is.

Throughout this ordeal, amid the cycle of happiness, loss, passion, and pain, I have realized something.

Grief and love are two sides of the same coin.

There can only be excruciating grief when we have an all-consuming love.

...

I was staring out the window when I heard a knock from the door. I reluctantly left the thoughts swirling in my head when the door revealed my mother.

"We have to leave love" she informed me in a very soft, comforting voice. I let out a shuddering breath as I followed her out.

I will not cry

The entire car ride was quiet, nobody dared to utter anything and I could feel the lump in my throat build up. I was trying to keep my composure as we neared the destination.

The church.

Mom held my hand the entire time, a silent promise of support that did not need any words. I took a moment to myself. I closed my eyes as I felt them water as everything came back.

This is it Isabella. This is it.

I gently wiped the impending tears before they made their presence known and I took a deep breath before I stepped out of the car and the transient comfort it brought me.

"They are only waiting for you" Mom uttered as we reached the gigantic doors but I found myself glued on the spot I was standing on.

I let out an involuntary sniffle that had her embracing me. I clutched at her just as tightly.

"It's okay" she whispered as she ran a hand on my back, "It's okay"

...

Red was spreading on his shirt. His face lost its color. Blood dripped from his lips. He was staring at me, with shock, with fear... Then he dropped on the floor.

I wanted to do something but I was frozen.

I saw people frantically moving but all I could hear was this faint buzzing

I saw Tito Alfredo turn him on his stomach and applied pressure on the wound on his back. Tita Trinidad was hysterically crying and Martina was trying to calm her down.

Andrew Co was struggling from the man who had him pinned on the ground.

The entire hall was reduced to chaos.

I couldn't take my eyes from his unmoving figure.

Then everything went black.

My eyes fluttered open. I could hear the whir of the machines and then the subsequent screech of a monitor. I could feel my heart painfully beating against my chest

"Where's Ian?" I forced out through the burning of my throat. I was thrashing to get off the bed but I was being held down. I dislodged the IV from my arm and saw red dripping and the entire fiasco went flooding in my heading.