My brother went home today from visiting us here in Manila, a visit that has spawned a lot of conflicts and controversies. Apparently it signified that he was taking sides, our side. There is some truth to it, we have the same views in life and the same resolve to preserve our mother’s legacy.

Things have been said these past couple of days. Things that would forever be etched in our family’s history, and would set a great divide between us all. I myself am not ready to forgive my other brother, for his harsh words and stubborn soul. He now resides on the other side of that great divide. What he said, ends all my bonds from him. I no longer feel that he is my brother. Like I said, with all finality, I feel like I have lost a brother and a sister in this episode in my life.

I don’t know if I could ever forgive them. Perhaps when I find the reason why I have to apologize for my successes in life, that will be the day.

The quests for truth can mean either freedom, or hurt. I have always been unlucky in unravelling the truth, because it always leads to the latter.

Right now I am in the livingroom with two of my brothers, sharing our thoughts, our shock and dumbfoundedness over what just happened this very night. I am deeply hurt and filled with disbelief at the fact that my family is breaking up into pieces. I always thought that my family was resilient, but I thought wrong. Our distance from each other made our family bonds so weak, that a mere fight over material possessions would break us apart.

I am left broken by this episode in my life. I am now resigned to the fact that I have lost a brother and a sister forever. But I do not have the luxury to grieve. My anger and resolve will conquer what little love I have left for them.

It took me all this time to gather enough willpower to articulate this in writing. Somehow it’s always harder for me to write bad memories. I just feel like it means acceptance, for I am not yet ready to take that step. You see, my mother died recently. This is the 39th day since that fateful day, and today is the 40th day since she was rushed to the hospital.

My life is in turmoil, yet again. I find myself taking the mantle of responsibility my mother bore alone since my father died. Everything is still confusing, everyone still has their masks on. I have to unravel these things first, I have to discover the truth.

I found solace in new and untested friendships, to my surprise. My long time friends just seem too preocuppied by their own lives. I think we became apart too long, that we drifted too far away from each other now. But maybe I just didn’t call for their help loud enough. It was just a surprise to me now, I realized, that the faint cry I could muster was heard by these new people in my life, and not by the friends I thought I could actually count on at all times.

But I can’t be choosey, and I don’t want to be. I can only be grateful.