To Ana

*This is an old post that was published in my old blog last July 7, 2013.

The first time I woke up today, it was around 4:00 AM, just as my brother was about to leave for Manila. I only managed to lock the door behind him before I went back to sleep again.

The second time I woke up, it was already mid-morning, with bright skies peeking between my windows, sunshine filling my room, and my dog eagerly waiting beside my bed for a cuddle.

What a beautiful day.

Reminiscing about my carefree childhood and thinking about how days like this used to be the only happy pill I needed back when I was a kid, it took me a while to remember what happened recently. But reality always has this way of creeping in on us, no matter how unwanted it is.

Before I knew it, the reasons why I just wanted to sleep and not face the world came rushing back. 

On days like this one, I often wonder what it would have been like for those who are not around anymore, if the situation was different, and they’re still here right now.

Will they be happy to see what a beautiful day it is? Will they be thankful for being alive? 

Those questions filled my groggy mind as I tried to drag myself from the sofa where I often fall asleep. Out of habit, I looked for my phone to check if I had any messages. Of course, aside from the usual forwarded quotes from a cousin in Davao, I had none - just a little reminder of how alone I am. 

I was mindlessly going through my social media feed when I stumbled upon a post that made me stop what I was doing. It was a memoriam for Ana.

As expected, it grabbed my full attention - something that the bittersweet, the tragic, and the heartbreaking always manage to do for me without fail. 

For some reason, the simplicity of her name - Ana -  struck me. Reading further, I learned that she was a promising young writer who took her own life a few years ago. 

I googled her name and got several results - mostly of people dedicating a blog post in her memory as today marked the 6th anniversary of her death.

Looking at her picture and reading the messages dedicated to her, I realized she was the writer that I read about in the newspaper a few years ago.

I remember reading that specific article because as a struggling writer myself, depression had always been a constant company and the thought of eventually coming to a point where I don't want to go on anymore has always been there. Her story hits close to home, and  I couldn't believe it had been that long already.

So as I sat there trying to digest everything that I just read, the reality of how death always comes unbidden became too real for comfort again. Only this time, it was different - it came in the form of someone so promising but pushed to the edge that she decided to end her own life.

Reading the things written about Ana gave me a glimpse of how she must have been like when she was still alive. I've never read her column, but she must have been one hell of a writer to be able to touch the lives of so many people around her with her words.

I also learned that she used to have a Multiply account that was taken down. I wish I had the chance to read it and see the person that she was through her writings before that happened. As one writer had lamented, taking it down was a sad way of silencing her.

I guess that issue is moot now considering that the whole Multiply site had been shut down, along with my own Multiply blog that was filled with memories of my college days.

As I stare at the sunshine and blue skies through my window, my heart is heavy with sadness for those who are not around anymore. Knowing that death can be so unexpected, so abrupt, and so final is very overwhelming and for some reason, today of all days, that really hits hard.

To my fallen law school classmate, I hope you'll get the justice you deserve. May your family find the peace to move on and continue with their lives behind your tragedy.

And to Ana, I wish you could have seen how beautiful today is. I wish you could have enjoyed this sunshine and blue skies. I wish the world had been a little kinder to you so that you could have found a reason, no matter how small, to hold on a little longer until things get better.