By the Iloilo River I Sat Down and Spaced Out

Now that the holidays is fast approaching, the need to share it with someone has intensified. Especially with the singles, the divorced, the separated and the alone. And loneliness hangs in the air just like the fog in the early dawn. That's why families suddenly become important in the bussle of Christmas shopping. In the cold temperature, we all seek warmth but where to find it? how to find it?

I'm no different. I find myself staring at the river more often than I'm supposed to. This is my own version of Paulo Coelho's book, I guess. But you see, I'm not suppose to feel lonely. My ex-slash-friend tries to visit me as much as he can and each time, I have to clarify that we are just FRIENDS - in bold, italicized, neon letters flashing. But he keeps treating me like a queen and the switch goes off and I become unresponsive ... sigh ... I feel sorry for him but there's nothing there. I told him that I'm in a place where I can't be reached. Not by him. Not by anyone. A thousand miles away as Vanessa Carlton sings it. At least for now.

Like any other Maria, I look for a significant Juan. And I long for the drums of Africa. I can hear them at a distance, faint but clear, north today, south tomorrow, comforting but unforgiving. I find myself amidst friends, family and princes... one interesting, the other surreal. But none can connect. I AM in a place that can't be reached. My heart's not here. Even God who listens to my every unspoken whim sits calmly and lets me be. "Be still and know I'm God", he says. Yeah sure, easy for him to say, He's GOD.

Hebrews 11:1 says: "Faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see." So in faith, I continue to sit by the river ... alone ... by choice ... yet longing to be with someone.

Note: this is not an advertisement. I'm not that desperate. I hope it doesn't sound like one - lol.