It was my friend’s birthday yesterday. He’s five years younger than I am but we get along just fine. It’s weird since the Confucianistic culture reminds me that he is a younger brother and not a friend. The MURICA in me says nah. We’re indeed good friends.
And just like that, I’m reminded of how fast life is. My girl is already 7 and she’ll turn 8 this year. A little over 5 years ago, the woman I married wanted to leave me. 10 years ago, I had a wedding with her. 15 years ago, I had just came back from Texas and was a young man ready to start life and conquer it. 20 years ago, I had just gotten my drivers license…
I never thought of it this way until now… but let’s say life is made up of breaths and you’re made of 1 million of them. Each one you take… cuts away at your life. Each one brings you closer to death.
The breaths are memories, experiences, scars, pleasure, pain, emotions, thoughts… but what they are… are things you can never get back. A breath to me represents time. I can’t take the same breath I took when I was 16… 21… 26… 31…
I long to be 16, 21, 26… and fuck… even 31 again…
never in my life did I ever think that breaths were so precious. Each one I take could be my last.. it could be the best or worse one yet.
I’m also reminded how precious and short our time is on this planet.
Some of us are looking for salvation and others for love. Others wish to build an empire of security while many seek to destroy it. And a few of us are a waste of breath.
I’m getting closer to forty and it scares the shit out of me.
I can hear my own breaths.
I go to church looking for the meaning of my life. I search for logical reasons of my existence while desperately hoping an ominous voice will tell me that my life up till now was to fulfill a greater goal, or a purpose.
Then I take another deep breath.
I look around the congregation and I see beautiful people. They all seem to know what’s going on. They’re so calm. They take in a deep breath and sing praises to Jesus and God. Their voices sound like a choir. So harmonious and angelic in nature.
I listen to the preacher man hoping a ray of light just tells me what all this was about.
Then… I see her. A person who was broken but keeps walking. A person who believes in everything this book says. She forgives people who did her family wrong. Then her name rolls off of my tongue… I feel each breath getting sweeter.
I’m suddenly reminded that I’m someone that many women didn’t want in the last five years. Im baggage. Im not tall enough. I don’t earn enough. Im not skinny enough. I used to think it was just me thinking that to my myself… until I hear it from our mutual friends.
I get it.
I take another breath. The air slowly begins to lose its flavor. I exhale. The air is now the usual bitter scent. Almost metallic and rusty in nature. The atmosphere goes back to being heavy. Time resumes itself.
I wipe the tears from my eyes… stare at the beautiful broken girl wishing I could love someone like her… wanting to be her breath…