I LOVE YOU, I’M SORRY
The radio was on in the store.
An old song played, the soprano voice in contrast with how melancholic the song was.
Grandmother wasn’t there.
Ai-oon was out delivering stuff.
I was alone in the house and my mind raced when I heard the lyrics.
Why does the sun go on shining?
Why does the sea rush to shore?
Don’t they know it’s the end of the world?
Cause you don’t love me anymore?
I sat down and listened, paying close attention to the words and their meaning.
It had been months since the incident by the river.
Months when P’Ai chose me over May.
I should be happy and in a way I was.
The choice she made proved that I was the one she loves.
But when my emotions settled and I had the chance to reflect on what happened, my heart felt hollow.
There were a lot of open spaces that needed to be filled but with what?
It felt unfair to ask my sister to do that.
To take her away from the one she loves.
But in my desperation, I thought I had no one else.
If I lose her, I would also lose myself.
The circumstances then were tense and emotional.
I was not in the right state of mind given what I’ve been through.
Knowing that P’Ai protected me from myself gave me a little bit of comfort.
It was obvious I needed help.
There was a lot going in my head.
I was drowning in my own thoughts and I didn’t know which one to handle first.
One day, I heard a commotion and raised voices.
I went outside and saw the fallen motorbike.
The vehicle slipped on oil and my sister was hurt.
Grandmother was worried and the sight of the accident, the panic in their voice and the worry that was palpable were enough to cause a meltdown.
I rushed over to hug my twin, tears streaming down my face.
My heart in a vise-like grip.
It was so hard to breathe.
She couldn’t stop me from crying.
The attention was suddenly focused on me instead of her who had the slight mishap.
It prompted my sister and grandmother to take me to the doctor.
The diagnosis was PTSD.
It helped to know what I have because I could finally manage it.
The doctor said I went through a lot.
Losing my husband on the night of our wedding and then the coma was a lot for one person to handle.
It was a good thing that my family decided to seek medical help.
There was a lot to be done if I wanted to take control of my life again.
The doctor was honest with me, answering my questions with care and patience.
Healing and recovery was not going to be easy.
It would take time to finally get back on my feet again.
The reality of how we were going to afford treatment added to my anxiety.
Grandmother’s business wasn’t making much.
P’Ai was earning from her novel and her delivery job but I didn’t want to be a burden.
Treatment was costly.
I was used to making money and being financially independent.
Being unable to do that, feeling helpless and thinking that I was a weight that my family had to carry, aggravated the fragile state I was in.
Kosol had the answer.
He came by to the house one day.
We talked and he suggested going to a non-profit facility that was a one-stop service.
Hope bloomed as I listened to him.
His words were the answer I needed until I checked the website.
May owned the facility.
When I saw the profile, I paused.
The woman I once loved, the one I blamed for what happened in my life, owned a place that helped people take back control of their lives.
My heart sank, hopelessness quickly creeping in once again.
Was this the right thing to do?
What if seeing May worsened my condition?
She was a tangible reminder of everything I went through.
Was I ready to face her?
Could I handle being in the same space with the woman who broke my heart?
In the chaos of it all, there was one question that shifted my perspective.
Did I want to get better?
When I acknowledged that, it was easier to make the decision.
There was one other thing the fueled my willingness to show up at the facility.
I wanted to know if May was happy.
Kosol introduced me to the right people.
It was an adjustment at first.
But the therapist told me that the success or subsequent failure of my treatment was in my hands.
No one could do it for me.
I had to do the majority of the work.
That was what I did.
I attended treatments on a daily basis, got to know new people and slowly opened myself up to the world again.
But there were nights when I’d wake up bathed in cold sweat, and fearful of my surroundings.
Flashes of that fateful night when I lost Paul and I was taken to hospital for life-altering injuries resurfaced and I would hyperventilate.
If it wasn’t my grandmother rushing to the room to comfort me, it would be P’Ai.
She cradled me in her arms, the rhythm of her soft breath lulling me back to sleep.
I held on to her as if I was a newborn, searching for warmth and safety in the familiar things.
My sister never gave up on me despite the burden of loneliness she carried in her heart everyday.
The few times I saw May at the facility, I recognized the same sadness in her eyes.
But I was not ready to let go of everything yet.
I needed time.
I shouldn’t rush myself into doing things even if it was at the expense of my sister and May.
The right moment would come.
I just don’t know when it was going to be.
My sister, the one who disliked school, was surprisingly a good writer.
Her books were a commercial success.
You would think it would make her happy but I knew better.
She carried that pain like a badge.
It hurt to see it.
I was back to being my old self again.
I missed having a job and the freedom that came with having my own money.
I wanted to contribute to my family.
The desire to take a bolder step was because of my sister.
She finally found her purpose.
I wanted to have mine too.
One night, I took out my computer and applied for a job.
My friends encouraged me to give it a try.
The tragedy did not lessen my skill.
The doubts were there but I had enough tools to handle my emotions.
I felt stronger.
I had to do this for myself.
If I didn’t, I was afraid I would wither away and it would be harder to bounce back.
I kept things a secret until that day we were having lunch.
My sister had an upcoming book launch.
Grandmother was proud of her and so was I.
It was the perfect opportunity to tell them I was hired.
The joy and pride I saw in their eyes proved that I did the right thing.
But before anything else, there were things I needed to do.
My sister and I went back to the river.
It was beautiful that afternoon.
I said goodbye to Paul, the one who loved me with all his heart.
The biggest challenge was May.
She was sitting at the atrium with an unread novel in her hand.
I saw her as I was walking down the corridor as I was about to go home.
There was a pull in my heart.
It was the perfect time.
I laid my heart bare.
She was forthright and I appreciated that about her.
The thought that she and my sister kept their word hurt more than it healed.
I was the hindrance to their happiness.
If I didn’t let them be with each other, I would never be free.
The choice my sister made that night was borne out of fear.
But that dark night was also instrumental to my healing.
I used love to hurt others.
But after seeing how they suffered because of me, after going through therapy and dealing with some hard truths, that love needed to change.
It had to be liberated not only for myself but for those around me.