SCAR

"just great! i just earned myself another scar!" i uttered to myself. just recently, i'm quite annoyed as i noticed a healing mark left on my skin from the damaged done by the hard plastic removable immobilizer i have been wearing to impede movements on my foot and ankle. well, on the other hand, at least, it's painless, now. all of the sudden, i find myself checking on my skin if i had other scars. it seemed like all of my scars have their own story to tell.

i have a huge blemish the size of a quarter on my left leg. it's almost faded, one could barely see that flaw on my skin. well, i remembered vividly when i got it. i was, perhaps, seven years old. mom wanted me to go the market in the philippines to buy two iced cold one liter bottles of coke (which by the way it was made out of glass and not plastic) for our guest. so i held each bottle of soda with my tiny hands when all of the sudden, an untamed dog chased me. i ran my rear end off just so i can go home quickly. i even tried to climb my neighbor's chicken wired fence. but for some strange unexplainable reason, the lunatic street dog preyed on me as if i was a piece of a succulent luscious meat. needless to say, i dropped the pop colas and i never reached home. next thing i knew, i was waking up to the painful stitches of the doctor at the local hospital.

on my right pointy finger, there is defective old wound, almost shaped like a capital letter Y. my brother long, who was 4 years old then, and i was 6 when we had this chaotic arguement. our house boy whom we fondly called "kuya eddie" always made a suggestive yet humored comment that "if you guys are fighting, you want me to get the godd*mn knife and so you both can kill each other." (in tagalog, " sige, mag-away na kayo...gusto niyo kunin ko yung kutsilyo para magpatayan na lang kayong dalawa eh!")

of course, he was kidding around. yet, my brother long is probably one of the most annoying little kid i've ever encounter that he always gets on my last nerve. so we would always get into boxing, wrestling, kicking, karate (whatever the situation called for!) fights and we would get so into it to the point of saturated aggression. well, one time, he lost it and was so upset that he eventually literally took kuya eddie's advise and got the knife ( or was it "itak" then). in return, i teased him even more that when i put my hand on one of our coffee tables, he hit me with the freakin' knife and smacked me twice in the middle my right pointy finger creating a bloody bloodshed all over the house. well, as the story ends, i got another stitch on my finger. worse yet, my brother long and i had to choose between a weeping from papa's thick leather belt or a long and powerful 4 by 4 wood as our punishment.

i had other scars, too like the first time i fell on the bike as i was too boastful to brag i had a new bike and i had a straight cut on my right inner leg. or the one time, i climbed the tallest mango tree at the front house. i did not have a clue on how to get down that i stepped on a weakling branch. gravity pulled me down and eventually fell on my rear. i found my foot bleeding from piles of sharp stones ilanded on. wow. those were the old days. eventually the pain from those scars and the time slowly healed all my wounds. and now, though, it still left distinctive inperfections on my skin, it's almost invisible from the naked eye.

even more, i have unseen scars. they are the ones kept in the heart. the ones you can not see but you can feel. i have deep cuts left from love. i have endured my deepest and most remarkable scars from loving someone. and though it is concealed and undisclosed, these unnoticeable wound are the most painful ones. they are the most difficult to cure because the wound is deep-seated and submerged into the core of my heart. it almost feel like someone stabbed me with a samurai and left it there steady and untouched and let is bleed profusely. and though, sometimes the wound healed, there is still a pinch of twinge pasted on that same spot.

lately, that pinch of torture came back. and i find asking myself, why do we treat our relationship with each other like an open wound? when we love someone, we try to heal each other. we try to peel that scab off of our pasts torments again and again. sometimes, we thought the wound will just try to heal itsself.

with our kindness.

with our nice flirty words.

with our irresistable charms.

with our enticing looks....

only to find out......

and then BAM,

there it goes again. the wound bleeds, we cry again. and then we comfort. then the cycle starts again. once again, we endure cuts and slashes from the memories of each other. we're wounded again. we're left with scars again. we'll have to wait for it to heal again...hoping and praying that when we meet again, gone are pinches of twinge. gone are the deep scars.

we hoped....

and we hope...

but we realized, it does not go away.

the scars remain.

posted by pinay freestyle @ 7:53 PM

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