The Truth

“You never find yourself until you face the truth”
-Pearl Bailey

I have not blogged for over a month. My thoughts are all over the place; my words the same. But I will try to make sense of them all.

She said it was for just 30 seconds. Her heartbeat pounding like a drum, pounding a bit too fast for her reach. In those 30 seconds she was out, out of her own control. And it was that control which was lost, the loss she described two days later. Because two days later, she vividly expressed the irregular, perpetual, unrestrained beats of her heart; the perpetual, unrestrained beats that caught me in this irregular dilemma. Although I saw this answer coming, still I asked for clarification. Althought I saw this answer coming, still I am surprised that I was right.

Arrhythmia.

This is the truth. The truth I blurred out of sight, out of mind. The truth I have hid from for years, yet no longer could I. Just like how the heart attack hit her, the truth hit me. Before I knew it, there it was. The truth, crystal clear. This is not only what my mom died of, but why as well. And the truth is before, I had accepted my mom's loss purposely with empty spaces. Because before, I rather of had a fuzzy comprehension, having thought that just maybe, it would not have hurt as much.

So the truth is, some can survive, but not everyone. And out of bitterness, anger struck me at the thought of this. But here is what I realized. You can give me the history, the a to z's, not leaving out a single detail, yet there will always be so much more to it. I realize now, that no matter what I know, my question may never be answered. I may understand the irregular, perpetual, unrestrained situation. But I will never truly grasp why.

This occurrence happened just this afternoon; an afternoon filled with more realizations than I could have ever imagined. You see, once again, I fell into another panic attack. But this time was different. He use to care, and I would like to believe, in some way, he still does, and even if so, this time was and always will be different. He would have been right by my side. But this time is different. This time, I faced my panic attack on my own two feet. Which scared me, with a kind of fear I never saw coming, because I guess I never saw him leaving.

But here it is. Here I am. This is the truth.

Bruised

"Scar tissue that I wish you saw, sarcastic mister know it all."
-Red Hot Chili Peppers: Scar Tissue

We feel. We react. We are only human. As this summer winds down, I am learning more and more about myself. This summer did not turn out as picturesque as I had imagined. Maybe my expectations were a bit too high to match up with my reality. But that is not the point. The thing is, even in the worst situations there is some type of good, like the glass half full. This summer taught me inner strength. The kind of strength my mom obtained; the kind of strength I need now more than ever.

We feel. We react. We may hurt sometimes. We are all bruised human beings. And as every bruise arises, every bruise fades as well. This bruise, my inner scar, will fade with time. Although, time is no remedy to forgetting. And even then, I do not need that sort of remedy because I do not mind remembering. Because I know this bruise will clear up, and I will be as good as new. And in addition to that, I will be a heck of a lot stronger with the kind of strength my mom obtained. Because with this inner strength, I can be a single step closer to being more like her. And maybe gaining this inner strength will make her proud. I hope so.

All I know is we feel. We react. We will hurt sometimes. But we are all bruised, human beings.

The Rag Doll Who Knew

He knew me more; he knew I trusted him more. He knew my aspirations, my beliefs; he even knew my weaknesses. He memorized every inch of my skin. From the outside in, he knew me, Ella Marie DaCosta Cajayon. He knew too much.

Just like a rag doll he used me, because he knew me. Because he knew I cared about him, even after all the pandemonium he caused. Because he knew he could trust me. Because although he knew my aspirations, beliefs, even my weaknesses, he did not care. Though, there is but a single thing he did care for: himself. Just like a rag doll he used me, because he knew he had me in the palm of his hand. With the palm of his hand, he toiled with my emotions; with the palm of his hand, he opened my eyes to an obscure truth: it was all puppy love for him. Narcissistic, artificial, scripted reality TV relationship, heart-mending puppy love. And how I know that? I know that because if he was the "real deal", we would not be where we are today. Today he just another boy; today I am just another girl.

Yet unlike a rag doll, I know him too. I know his aspirations, beliefs, even his weaknesses. I memorized every inch of his skin. But last night, even he took it too far, even for me. Me, Ella Marie DaCosta Cajayon, the one he knew and was even right about, at least for awhile. You see, he knew me, past tense. He does not know me anymore. Because if he knows me at all, he knows that he will never, not even for a single second, be able to take advantage of me ever again. Because if he knows me at all, he knows that I am no ones rag doll.

He knew me, but here is what he may not know. Starting now, I have moved on from who I know him to be today. You hear me loud and crystal clear. Starting now, I am no longer heart broken. Starting now, I am jubilantly, independent, ready to stand on my own two feet and conquer the world. Just watch me :)