Category : Diary/Journal

Sub Category : N/A

Someone asked me why I love the nights more than the daytime.... perhaps, it is because I hear enough noise during the day that the silence at night is like a breath of fresh air. I have seen how the world disintegrates every now and then, seen the same old routines, been into the same busy long lines and crowded rooms, and I have seen enough unhappy faces just trying to look okay. I have also seen enough reflection of myself on other people where all we could ever give are fake smiles and "got-no-choice" gestures.

I have tried to drag myself early in the morning to face the day, forced myself to listen to conversations I wish I could walk away from, and I have been in so many circles that made my dreams their target of ridicule. During the days, I see myself getting by, fitting my corners on the dark sides I don't truly belong where I had gathered enough complaints I never bothered to spill. It is during the day where I am forced to pause my passion to keep up with my chores and routines. I have seen enough under the broad daylight and everything I do seem to always appear clearer. Everyone sees it, and everyone has something to say about it.

And maybe that’s why I love the nights more because they give me the silence, the freedom to be alone, and most important, the nights provide peace. I am strong during the day, but it is at night when I allow myself to be weak. It’s during the nights when I can shut my world away from everyone else. I can be fragile, I can lock my door, I can be silent, I can be a letdown, I can be just another tired soul recharging. 

I love the nights because just like the world, I am allowed to get tired, I am allowed to rest, and I am allowed to be alone with myself. I can shrink like the sun, and I can be that jet-black sky with no promising stars. It's also during the night where I can recall where I failed, and where I went wrong. I can trace my imperfections and I can write something about them until the pain stops hurting. It's during the night where I am allowed to take a break so I can try once again the next day.

It's past three in the morning and his birthday is coming up soon. Should I give him a call or send him a text to wish him happy birthday when the day comes? Or should I force myself to block it and pretend the date had slipped from my mind? This is why I love the night time.... the city is asleep, there is no noise, and the silence provides the perfect landscape for me to think, to contemplate, and to wallow in my pain.

And this is how I deal with pain.
I cling to my favorite songs, to my favorite poetry from my favorite poet, I cling to my favorite book as I keep rereading the same old lines from the same old page, and I cling to the movies I keep watching over and over again. I go to places that offer me calmness; to the sound of silence that replaces the screams I bottle up inside my chest. I'd try to rewrite my favorite lyrics when I want to reminisce, and as I cling to the stillness of the night, I cry, I pray, I hum through the melodies, and sometimes I find ways to escape, to replace reality with fantasies with lines from my favorite scene that keeps on playing inside my head. During the night, I see a reflection of my history, of my pain, of my longing, my insufficiencies and sometimes, the residues of love that still takes up my entire being.

And this is how I deal with pain.... I cling to the idea that somewhere out there, I have these things that understand me, that validates my aches, that it’s not just me carrying the weight of the burden. I cling to them because I know my suffering is not a cliché, and that it's okay to feel everything when I am not okay. The stillness of the night speaks the words I can’t compose, it connects the puzzle pieces that I didn’t know how to begin with, it paves the way, points out the sunrise, and it gives me reasons to accept my fate.