|The Lord lift His countenance upon you|
“Who will air my side of the story, Deebs?”
It’s as if it was only yesterday when I heard those words from him. Was it a plea? Was it really a question? What could it mean? Perhaps, forever I’ll never find out.
To be sure, I offered myself. “Do you want me to do it?” He said, “no.” I understand now it's for the good. And I know he knew I prefer the sidelines, something I'd always be thankful he did respect.
So now I’d like to tell you about this person I’ve come to know. Let me begin with how he allegedly left.
He left. He left without a word, a hint, not even a trace. Was he really gone? Alas, that is something you can choose for.
Now I want to air his story. Once for all break my silence and offer my voice the way I do with my profession. I want to answer that plea of him, a guy so often misunderstood, that finally his side of the story be aired. I want to air his story. Maybe our story. But I can’t help but ask: was there ever a story? Maybe there is. But somehow, somewhere, the story was lost. Maybe not at all.
It might appear cruel, but truth is no, it is not. Because somehow, somewhere, something or someone really have died. He might come back sooner than you could’ve waited for or lamentably, maybe it’s time we accept the blinding truth he never will.
I believe it was Miguel Syjuco who said we should aspire nothing in this life but freedom for everything that is good springs from it. That’s why we should allow ourselves break loose from the binds of mortality. Release each other from deception, from loneliness and even from the demons we ourselves created.
As for me, I’d like to believe that one day, there was a person who came to my door, asking who am I. I let him in because he seemed lonely. We talked and shared each other stories. About the damning political state of this sorry nation, blurred civil statuses and whether Kobe Bryant is a real crocodile or not. There was a question that I was not able to give answer to despite his insistence. I never gave an answer. Regrettably, I never told him what he needed, what he always wanted to know.
I would love to air, not just his side of the story, but his story. But it’s hard. It’s hard not being able to. Perhaps in my silence, if one tries hard to listen, someone will finally learn of the story that once and for all, the entire burden shall be lifted from me.
Not all good stories are told. And I will not be so arrogant to claim I know the whole truth. But in the seeming end of this narrative, maybe I just like to say a few. This will not bring clarity or freedom to those who aspire for it, but in the attempt, maybe and I hope it’ll be the start. For now I’ll just wait for the reincarnation of truth. Or maybe a lie. Of a demon or a damning angel. Or maybe a fool.
But still I have to ask: who will air my side of the story now? Perhaps, like you, no one will.