Pokerheart

It’s been quite a while when I last shed a tear. When our family broke up, leaving my mother along with my sister in the old pueblo, all I did was stare blankly as memories start to be torn apart, bridges bent if not burnt, and family stories never to be made and told. Call me the egocentric kid I was but there was something inside me that sparked a little happiness about my parents’ break up. Is it the extra attention I’d get from my dad? Is it the fact that I practically own every toy on the bin which I used to share with my sibling? It didn’t really matter which reason it may be but I am certain I wanted it to happen.

Even at the earliest recollections of my life, I had already been stood as a witness to the frailty of the heart. How it could fade in an instant leaving both parties to the inevitable hurting. How temporary and short-lived it is. How it becomes a fatalistic cycle of love and hate until both of them realize it is not worth pursuing for. How it shatters people to their cores. How it inflicts pain to one to make them realize that I they are still living.

Then I grew up, had a couple of relationships, shared a common view on what I have with what my parents had. Savoring the moment while there was still love but always gave up when the situation becomes too tryingt. Que sera sera as some would call it. I was feeble like that but it sure saved me from emotional breakdowns and all the drama. Somehow, it pays to be emotionless.