Complexities of a prince\’s life…

The first time I ever loved something, happened in an instant.

It was when I got my first game console. It was the Sega Mega Drive. When I was little, I rarely got the chance to play outdoors and my games kept me busy most of the time.

I remember wanting to sleep early whenever my cousins would sleep over so that I can get a head start playing videogames the following morning. I really treasured it and loved every minute that I got the chance to play.

The day I broke my console is still vivid in my memory. I just got home from school, I was in a hurry trying to plug everything when all of a sudden.. boom! The entire house lost its electricity (I accidentally plugged it directly without the transformer). I really don’t remember if I cried. All I know was that I tried to convince myself that it can still be fixed. That they can do something to make it all go away.. the guilt.. the worry.. the pain.

The irony for kids is that even though they can be happy with mundane stuff, they can be sad in an instant as well. But what separates them from most adults is their ability to move on.. to forgive when need be.. to learn from mistakes..  to be able to stand up, brush off the dirt from their knees, and continue playing as if nothing happened. Nobody was able to fix my console. I was bummed for a couple of days but moved on with a different toy.

Do you know why kids cry sometimes when we see them fall? It’s because they see that look in our face: the concern, the worry, maybe the disappointment. And then we utter, “O, are you ok? What happened?!” But I saw someone who understood this. He was proud of his daughter and how she almost hit the fence but didn’t. Smart dad. His daughter is going to grow up strong and brave, ready to face anything the world would throw at her.

The first time I ever loved someone was a process.

And it was also the first time I felt how it was to be broken. But I wasn’t a kid anymore.

to be continued…

It’s raining outside.

Times like this, I become nostalgic.. I remember how it is back home whenever it pours. I recall how children brave the streets and just play around, running, not minding that they could get a cold or maybe some disease from the puddle of water they’ve soaked their feet with.

For the most part, life was simple when we were kids. We rejoiced whenever it rained because it could mean that classes were suspended and that mom or dad would have allowed us a couple of minutes to play outside with our friends.

We loved the rain.

And then we grow up.

We’re half as excited as before because we know that it would take a certain signal number “n” for classes or work to be cancelled. We avoid getting wet because it might ruin our attire. We complain about our shoes getting muddy, the commute to school or work, or even outdoor plans that’s been previously set up.

We forget the joys we once associated with rain and replaced it with concern. Excitement turned into disappointment, disgust for others even. How many of us would just go out and get soaked when it rains tomorrow?

I almost gave up tennis yesterday because I thought that the courts were wet and that it’ll rain any moment. It didn’t. I was happy I was able to let go…

to be continued..