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This is the blog of Ian Rosales Casocot. Filipino writer. Sometime academic. Former backpacker. Twink bait. Hamster lover.

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Wednesday, October 13, 2004

entry arrow2:39 AM | Like a Burst Dam

I have been crying since late evening. I don't know exactly why, but the tears just gush out in a terrifying flow, sniffles stirring the quiet of the night. It's 2:30 in the morning now, but here I am still, crying, my eyes all red and my nose puffy. It all started with the deepest argument I had with M., which began with me silently storming out of the house to a cafe downtown. The reasons are better left unsaid. Getting home a while later with M., we had the most cutting quarrel ever on the eve of our thirteenth month, on the thirteenth day of October. It was not the most dramatic or the most physically taxing -- we've had those before, and I have the scars to prove it -- but this one, I think, cut closer to the heart. We said things we've been meaning to say but kept hidden for the past year, afraid of our vulnerabilities, content in our efforts to keep things intact. But how suddenly all recrimination spring out, how suddenly we want to sound logical and damning in our crusades, and how infinitely absurd we all sound in actuality. Nothing is as silly, and as truly heartbreaking, as two people in love trying to make sense with the mud we throw each other. Later, as we lie down to truce and sleep, M.'s back faces me as M. cries into the pillow. I start to pray. And in the darkness, everything comes to me -- not an epiphany, no, nor a realization that should set everything straight. It is a dam of confusing emotions breaking. And then I begin to cry. I begin crying for M. I begin crying for myself. I begin crying for all the silly things and for all the little sadnesses this past 29 years. I did get a few hours of sleep, but later, while in our sleepy state we grappled to make love (early mornings always have this effect), I came to my peak and at that precise moment, collapsing down on M.'s chest, I burst out crying again. Bigger this time, and equally puzzling. I cry as my body settles down from its heaving. I cry as I take my shower. I cry in the dark as I get into my clothes. It seems suddenly that I am crying for all innocence lost, for the fact that in our pursuit of love and loving, the thing we do best is hurt the ones we truly love.

[When was the last time you cried?]

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