Two weeks – that’s how long it took recovery to this extent, when I can flip through images of the last rally Lia and I attended without tearing up. Most days, I’d opt out of social media and current news. It’s rejuvenating to not thrive on anger and be constantly bombarded with reality. I wonder if this is how some friends of mine, who make “ignorance is bliss” their credo, feel.
This is when you dust yourself off and accept. I have accepted. And I – we – will move forward. Nothing will ever be the same. The world will still revolve on its axis, the alignment tilted against minorities like us. But you will live, a chip off your heart smarting once in a while. You will remember that time you held your daughter so close, shedding hopeful, unabashed tears, surrounded by hundreds of thousands chanting Rosas. If you could do it again, would you have done differently? There are no regrets in this election. My ballot is as proud as it can be.
Finally, you will remember, these are the last days before a Marcos and an Arroyo-backed Duterte sit together in power. Savor it. Treasure these last days of calm. The road is long and precarious. Your grief, now tempered, wiser, and aged by time, is a necessary arm for revolution.
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