The Tears of the Teardrop!

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I’m a lover of fun. Indeed! So I always project myself as a happy man. Recall me always with smiles and laughter, for that is how I will remember you all. If you can only recall me with tears, then don't remember me at all.

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Since I was a little boy, I’ve been away from my parents. If you have read my previous blog, ”Little Big Mama’s Boy”. It talks about my early journey with my little sisters. Those were the days when we were on our grade school education.

After I graduated elementary, my mother asked me if I would like to proceed to secondary or highschool education. I was not only liking the idea but I loved it. My mother warned me to be true in my schooling. Why? Because I had to go to a different island – away from my parents again. This time, I gotta be alone. My sisters were in my parents’ hands.

I went to Doong island in search for a sunnier future. I was staying at my aunt’s family. My parents would visit me at least once a month. Missing my loved ones was not a joke. There were times that I badly needed to talk to my family to voice out my life’s struggles and frustrations, but no one was there. No mobile phones. No telephones. No any other telecommunications available. We had none to afford these wonders.

Just tears were my buddies

Aunt and Uncle were busy for their work too, plus I didn’t want to be a burden to them.

What in a world I was doing in a age of 13.

Bullies are true and they are everywhere.

Since I was just a new to the place and I got no one to defend me. Bullies loved to tickle my sick being. Hurting may not be their intentions, but for a poor little guy like me, those stuffs made my self-esteem sunk.

I couldn’t repudiate that there were times I wanted to go home and stay. But at least, my zeal eagerness and insightful realizations that I didn’t want to die with my insecurities and ignorance brought me to a high-powered focus. But still, I couldn’t refute as well that there were times that I cursed God at times, why he was allowing those things to happen to me.

Then my unguided innocent mind said:

I don’t want to pray anymore. There’s no God at all. There’s no You. To whom I am praying for? Nothing! No one! I’m just fooling myself. I am fooled. Pray? No one sees and hears me. If You’re there, do you have eyes looking at my truncated situation? Do you have ears listening to my mourning? Do you have a heart to at least give me comfort and a defender? You do not exist. If you do, then you are unfair. You never recognize my attention. I thought you are merciful, then why prayers are not granted? Then why innocent are victims? Why? Why me?

• (Yes. I still remember this feeling because I got a picture that reminds me of it)

After all, what I did was – I was talking to Him and got the time to share with Him my difficulties. He listened. He never argued and interrupted me talking. He let me speak what I want. He let the burden inside my heart goes out. Crying and sharing indeed is a cure.

Sometimes, letting our tears out helps us to rejuvenate and revitalize ourselves again. We need it.

Tough ones cry.

Crying is cleansing. There's always a reason for tears, happiness and sadness.

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Live to Live! Love to Live!
Do No Harm!