The universe tends to reveal us. It ignites something within us. It keeps dragging us back down so that each time we get up, our true selves reveal and we discover more of the mysteries we hold inside.
So the damsel who was once so in love with the idea of utopia fell in the bottomless pits of frustration and anger. She thought the universe punished those who did wrong while the good bathe in riches. She thought the church was a hall for the famous and nice. She thought weddings carried the most truthful and passionate bonds of love in the entire world.
She was wrong.
Once upon a time, she walked in the footsteps of good and nothing but good. Never lied and never cheated. Look where that got her. She was lied to. She was cheated on. Lastly, she was trampled because she moved so slow in the race of life.
She got back up. Still blind. Still believing. She went to Sunday masses and looked disgusted when she saw beggars at the gate of the building. It was then when the universe taught her that the church is not a hall of fame for people like her. Instead, it was a hospital for souls that need to be forged again. And Jesus is the best blacksmith in town.
And when her loved one left her, she realized that the real test of love does not happen during a wedding but maybe on an airport where the promise must hold true even if distance stretches out to a million miles.
Shattered and bitter.
Once upon a time, the damsel who believed so much in the existence of fairness and balance on the world, learned that life is simply life. It does what it feels. One will fly and fall. But for a reason- so that one day when life decides to come back with more pain…one can say “I’m not afraid.”