papa 3

Chapter 3

I felt so tired, so weary. I woke up on the middle of that night. I felt so alone on those hours of darkness. My roommate Angel was already on dreamland so I had no one to talk with. It was so quiet and dark so I just focused my attention to the flashes of lightning outside the window of our room. I felt a cold draft of night air brush against my body. I reached for my blanket.

I turned my attention again outside and hummed of a familiar song. I thought I was about to cry. But I just can’t. I kept on humming Jose Mari Chan’s Sing Me Your Song Again Daddy…hoping I could find the right words on my mind to express how I truly felt about the loss of my father. I know the lyrics of that song weren’t fit.
Memories of Papa appeared on my vision…it was as if there was big screen in front of me…

…there I was, so young, so innocent and so happy…with Papa, a great guitar man by my side. I was singing while he was playing with his guitar…I love to wear his big, tattered shirt…that was me…a long time ago...
I felt my eyes were warm…but there wasn’t a single tear. I tried to evaluate myself why a cry-baby like me can not cry during that moment of my life.

…soon, I saw myself, a teenager who grew so tough. I began to call myself Stoic. As defined by the word, “apparently unaffected by any form of emotion”. I began to be like that when I learned about having other siblings from my father through another woman. I was hurt badly when I learned about the unfaithfulness of my father. How he had cheated on my mother. And as time passed by…I just realized I became aloof to all of the rest of the family members…my parents were never the ideal parents. From that moment on, there were never real happy moments with them for me. I tried to find happiness with the company of my friends. I don’t act the real me when I’m at home. Only my friends distinguish who I really am. I shine to different lights to different people I come across. Things were really poles apart.
My heart remained heavy…and I decided to sleep…