How to save a life

Near the end of the movie Batman: The Mask of the Phantasm, a bowed Bruce Wayne is left in the darkness of his cave, probably fathoming to the full extent just how empty it is- after believing that he had lost his love that night...a second time.

"I couldn't save her Alfred." he finally says.

"Perhaps she didn't want to be saved..."was the initial reply of his trusted servant, the lone witness to the entire story.

But he would find out a few moments later that she was alive, leaving her pendant within the cave. But it wasn't a sign of hope, it was a way of saying goodbye.

That scene still moves me as well as puzzles me now as it did the first time I saw it. My older (pesky) brother probably sensed my irritation at the absurdity of the two lovers choosing not to be lovers, told me that in the book, the girl eventually married the guy she met at the boat as she left Gotham. I just give my brother a dry stare and kept my thoughts to myself. But I never did care to check if that was indeed how it ended in the book, didn't want that version to be the final version in my head.

Sometimes I wake up wondering what's the point of getting up in the morning. Somewhere along the way, I made a stupid choice, I'm sure of it. People just don't lose the vastness they feel for life overnight. But now, things just seem so...small. What was it that made me see things this way? I wish someone would just tell me. I wish I had it in me to listen if someone did. But throughout the day, everyday, life isn't really so bad. A few things keep you going, keep you hoping, and we really get more chances than we deserve...

In the end, I find myself asking...

Do I want to be saved?

....

"Man seeks to escape himself in myth, and does so by any means at his disposal. Drugs, alcohol, or lies. Unable to withdraw into himself, he disguises himself. Lies and inaccuracy give him a few moments of comfort." - Jean Cocteau

Once upon a time...

I was to be married to this girl once in my first year at college. I tried to get out of it (by jumping from the 2nd floor of the Kalayaan dormitory), but decided I wasn't ready to lose my soccer legs just yet. How bad can it be? It's not like these high school antics could be the death of me. So I went out of the room I trapped myself in and then we were married, and there was an actual certificate too (but I didn't sign it with my real signature- I figured that little trick would help me on the annulment, haha). I guess it's true too what they say about girls and married men, coz then I got a few notes from the girls on the other wing telling me I was stupid to agree to get married (girls relax, I'd have the annulment papers done before you know it ;p). All kidding aside, that's not really the point of the story...

Bel and I actually became friends, even before the "wedding". She was sort of one of those people that most people would handle with "special" gloves. Hmmm, I realize it's hard to tell this story the way it is suppose to be told simply because I am quite a different individual to who I was 7 years ago, and I can't seem to get the "writing voice" right (that tends to be a problem when you’re a schizo). But I'll try to tell it in simple honest terms, although most of you will just think I'm just being my evil judgmental current self. Anyhow, as I was saying, Bel was... challenging. She was nice and easy to talk to, but we had different values systems and she was rather particularly hooked on the topic of relationships and sex. Some would even probably call her mababaw. Though it was of no particular difficulty to me to talk about those things even at those times, I was cautious as to where it would lead (and don't worry, that's not where the story is going). She wasn't really shallow though. Back in those days, I really made an effort to try and make sense of people, and usually it would pay off. She shared with me her problems (not just the ones on relationships), and they were real ones. I mean we're talking about messed up level problems here. I wasn't and couldn't be in a position to judge her. I figured, she like many other people with messed up lives just ended up looking to relationships and sex as a solution of sorts to their woes.

When formal dinner came, I naturally went stag (the cool term for dateless men at parties). When the program proper was over, and when everyone had had their fill from the buffet table, everyone went with their dates or pals and did their thing (some went to dark corners and most went to the dance floor). Bel found me and we ended up together for most of the night. To be quite honest, there was a part of me that really didn't want to hang around her, especially on a night like that, since I would have enjoyed so much more just feeling lonely in some corner. Really. And though she made it known that she was "interested" in me, there was a big part of me that was determined to be her friend, even on a night like that. We talked a great deal, and it took a lot of my skills and abilities just to keep the conversation in a level that would be more "helpful" to her. I didn't even really care when a few people were giving us odd looks. My memory fails me now as to how we parted ways that night, but I think I was called to do my duties as the dorm photographer.

Eventually, we sort of lost touch over time. A year ago, or maybe just a few months back, I got a message from her. She's a single mother now and tells me she's back in UP. Though the message isn't long, she tells me of remembering that night of the formal dinner, and the things I told her and how they've always stuck to her and how it's helped her. She asks how I've been and if we could meet up sometime, the usual stuff.

I haven't given her a reply, and it is unlikely that I will. A confirmation to myself that indeed I am not the same guy as before, not the same guy she is thankful to. I'm not really sure what the point of this story is. Maybe what I'm trying to say is that people change, and it's so hard to change back. Or maybe, some of the little things we tried to do for other people back then, weren't so little after all. And this time around, she is the one being a friend to me, reminding me of someone who was and maybe, just maybe...can still be.

....

"If one is estranged from oneself, then one is estranged from others too. If one is out of touch with oneself, then one cannot touch others." - Anne Morrow Lindbergh