How to be strong

It hurts.
I think I'm a broken little thing,
Or big.
But you know not to take that literally.

I've never felt such a suffocating ache in my heart before.
I've never felt so much pain before.

Let me explain myself.

Everyone knows this is the second my Mom left my side. The first time I was sixteen. I was young and at the same time I sought exactly what I ended up having: freedom. Although it was lonesome at times, I managed to shake it off. I worked things out. I learned how to be strong, and I practiced for years to come. I perfected it, and so I thought I'd never struggle again.

But this time is so much different. I'd actually rather not cite every reason I have, but just this one.

It's like saying goodbye to my Inang, all over again.

To be honest, when she died in January, I was hurt too. But I managed. I didn't cry that lot, not as much as my Mom did.

When my Mom first left, I remember the person I sought: my Inang. When she left, I instantly got sick. Marshall was worried as hell, but weeks passed by and I wasn't any better. Until that one time, I visited Inang. She made me feel better. Because of her, I think, I was able to recover from such emotional state. She was as caring as my Mom. She was like my Mom. She stood as my Mom. And I didn't feel that alone, because my routine was just the same. I lived up to the tradition. All occasions, I spent with my Inang. Christmases, Holidays, name it all. And on top of all of that: I was still living in my childhood home, nearby my childhood friends, in such a familiar neighborhood I terribly miss now. My Mom left, but it wasn't this painful.

Because now, I no longer have my Grandmother. And sometimes, I look forward to spending the Holidays completely alone, because who would enjoy Marshall's company on Christmas? It's more complicated as you think. I'm not even welcome.

And I feel so distant, so far away from home and my friends. Geographically, it isn't really too far, but it feels like a million miles away. And I can't even go back there without shedding a tear, knowing it was only what it used to be.

So everytime I see a little boy with his big sister, holding hands at the mall, or find a Mother and Daughter shopping for the perfect birthday dress, I remember what I used to have. One that I will never have again in the same shape and form. It was the end. The punctuation mark to such a wonderful and memorable saga.

It hurts. It does. Like never before. I've never felt this alone, ever.
I usually spend my time by myself, reading books and watching Youtube videos. But during those times, I've never felt, not once, lonely. There were tears too of course, more of it actually than today's. But not once, it felt suffocating.

And I wonder, why can't the tears come? It's so controllable, it feels unreal, it feels weak. I want to feel everything all at once. Let it make a wave. I wanna feel the pressure of the ocean, sweeping through my skin in all forms. I wanna feel the loudness of the thunder, and not hear anything else. I wanna feel the sting of a bee, and see blood run down my wounds. I wanna feel the weight of the earth on top of my head. I wanna feel anger. I wanna catch on fire, so I can recreate the world. I want to feel Something more aggressive than sadness.

But all I feel is darkness.
Tiredness.
Numbness.
That urge to sleep.
And hope never to wake again.

So I think about it now.
And what went wrong?
I was so sure I was prepared to handle ANYTHING.
I've rehearsed.
Practiced.
Perfected how to be strong.
But for some reason,
I dropped it all.
I can't seem to remember,
HOW TO BE STRONG.