They were many.
He was a man who entered with such grandeur; and he came with a promise.
He was intelligent. He knew many things. His modulated voice always filled the room and all creatures in that room always saw themselves nodding their heads for he was full of knowledge. He knew technology, politics, structures, business and even some confidential information. He was tall. He always wore a suit that commanded attention and respect. And then, he would crack a joke and laugh like a king. Even in ordinary clothes, he looked like a boss. But it’s not those things that made him like a savior in my eyes, it was his sincere kindness that got me wishing something that I ended up regretting of considering: I wished that my father is like him. He always spoke of promises and those promises were completely unlike the many promises that got me disgusted with people. His promises were genuine; they were creative; they seemed so possible despite the difficulty of them coming to fruition; they were caring and tender; they were very concerned; they were life-changing. His promises made me believe once again that a miracle can happen. Most importantly, he made me believe that people CAN HELP without condition. There will be an angel sent to help and it might be him. Now, I do not see his brilliance anymore. Even his shadow is nowhere to be seen. Some things happened and I’ve seen that his outward appearance is all that he is. He is actually a broken man with a family so apart despite being in one roof. He is a man who has a business which he actually dislikes or even hates. He is a man easily frustrated by people who opposes his ways, his ways that are actually out-dated or obsolete. He is a man who has the purest intentions but because he is a man so broken inside, those intentions were only his mere armor.
They were such cheerful people, ready to listen, ready to speak, ready for anything. They always spoke such kind and friendly words. They always said that they will pray for us. They made me feel that maybe this time, we have found some kind of a home in them. They were such a promising group of people. They loved seeing us. They wanted to see us again. But then, their intentions were only for those days, those days when our life was still okay. Their intentions were only for good times. Their company was only for laughter, achievements, and success. Their prayers were only concerned about blessings, money and for us to memorize more biblical verses. Their smiles were only there when there were things to amaze them. Life came crushing down and they came turning their backs without a single utterance of farewell.
They were always with me, from birth till forever. We always wished, dreamed and prayed for our well-being, growth, and joy. Despite whatever came and the changes that occurred in each of us, we found a way to stick closer to each other. We always wished for the best of each of us but sacrifices had to be done. Heartaches had to be felt. Disappointments came knocking on the door a thousand times. A gap surely grew between each of us, one that we didn’t expect at all. The thoughts of walking mentally, emotionally and spiritually apart was always considered. Sacrifices do scar people. No matter how good our intentions are for each other, the scars have already been made and there is no other way than healing, than starting all over again, than re-learning and unlearning, than opening up again as new people and living as one family again.
He was the closest to me. We were more than destined partners. We were more than the best of best friends. We were more than siblings. We were more than any kind of relationship. We know each others’ best and what else we can become. We also know each others’ worst. We never fought except for short periods of mismatched moods that easily wear off with the most ordinary of things and effort. We always supported each other, to say the least. It was always his intention to support me in every single way he can. However, there will always be times when no matter how much you want to support someone dear, you are not strong enough. There will always be times when it is you instead who needs someone to understand your deepest concerns. It is you instead who needs somebody to listen to your anger, your worries, your plans, your thoughts, your frustrations, your happiness, your every story. There will always be times when one is at his weakest and the lesser weak has to carry you despite of his own weight.
She was a woman who rarely spoke of her intentions but one, single call from my Mom fires her up. She is one woman who can command others in a brigade to help. One single call is all it takes for her concern to reach us. Never was she selfish; never was she conditional. Helping the people she loves is a blessing in her eyes. Whether you are at the highest peak of your life or the lowest, to her, you are important. She was indeed more than a sister and friend. She was, until her last moment, concerned with the people dear to her. She wanted to see them, spend time with them for one last time. Now she’s in a better place and I miss her. Her intentions were the purest I’ve known and I can never ever forget them.
They were the happiest people I ever knew. We were always laughing out loud, eating together, and just spending jolly days together. They were there all the time. They were there when I was with them. They are still here now that the world pulled me one circumstance apart from them. They, at first look, are those who are concerned about nothing and no one even of their lives. They turned this world around when one day, they surprised me with something that they thought can change the circumstance I was in. They stayed with me till the night, they did not think that it was getting late and it was time to go home when I told them the whole situation: that I had to leave them and that I won’t be with them the next school years. Days, weeks, months and a few years have passed. They were awkward with words of care, good intentions and sympathy but their actions made all those fully alive. They were young and still are but they acted like people of golden ages and wisdom.
I was a young girl who was known in her early years as shy and soft-spoken. I am the same girl who volunteered to be the fighter in the family; the breadwinner; the thinker; the problem-solver; the consultant; the one who lights up the gloomy living room with her cheerfulness; the one who paused her personal life so that everybody else can move forward or rather merely survive. I saw myself very far from how I was as a child. It is a happy scene to ponder on. Somewhere deep in me though, it’s aching. Intentions, when genuine, loving and enveloped with faith, can crush the heart real hard. Intentions in the process can be the most draining; it feels like you’re running out of time, running out of chance, running out of sense, and running out of life. Worst is seeing that the life that is running out is no one else’s but yours.
Intentions. We are full of them. They are what keeps us going. They are what keeps us concerned, kind and loving. Intentions. They are many, they are ever increasing. They are always spoken, or if not, then thought of. They are what draws us closer to people, or farther from humanity. They are what gives hope or what drains faith out of man. They are what makes us believe in people or develops distrust, separation and isolation. They are what made me give up on some people and what made me appreciate one’s legacy.