Jose

I saw you sitting alone in the 35th floor cafeteria.

You were holding a cup of coffee while reading a copy of the PSE Index. From time to time, you looked blankly at the glass walls and gazed unseeingly at the storeys of high rise condos in front of you.

Sadness flitted in and out of your face. There was pain... and anger, but sadness was all there.

You were so easy to read that I told myself, “Here’s a young man who seems to have everything but is not really enjoying anything.”

I judged you as a loner.

I classified you as a social outcast.

I did not approach you though the urge to comfort you was strong. I could not talk to you because your silence forced me to fortify my walls-my only comfort zone where drifters like you could not faze me.

I heard your name being spoken with awe by the regular girls in the Sales Department. the guys in the Accounting Department said you were an inveterate pedestal that nobody could topple. You were a god and a devil.

I knew that you achieved everything you dreamed of-the capital stocks soaring high, the monopoly of very profitable oil and gas ventures, the top spot on the Wall Street Journal. You were a force to reckon with. Your name was splattered all over the pages of papers from the smuttiest tabloids to the most respected Time magazine. You were an untouchable.

Just years ago, I heard that you made the most successful merger of your life. You were finally to be wed to the most sought-after socialite in Italy. She was a real beauty alright, with her mixed Filipina-Italian features, operatic voice and ballerina bod. She was a perfect epitome of grace and poise matched with wit and intelligence that made her father win bids in government contracts through which he prospered. With her good breeding and your second-to-none success story, you were the talk of the town.

I was there watching the two of you as you waltzed together in the Champagne room. I was held captive by your public appearance on the national TV after your Hawaiian wedding. I swear I had the creeps when you told the press that you were so happy you were ready to give half of your billions to the needy.

Months after you celebrated the birth of your son, I was the first to cry when I heard that you leapt out of your 40th floor penthouse because of a failed marriage.

Your life was not a fairy tale story. You were born to be comfortable and happy with your mother and father. They were simple folk in a rural area and family ties were strong for them. You decided, though, at a very young age that you could not follow your parents’ footsteps. You followed your own dreams and had it.

You were content for quite some time until you felt that you need more, so you worked harder and earned more, you sacrificed more and yielded more.

You created your own story and made it to a happy ending…almost.

I admired you for your courage and guts.
I was so proud of your achievements and hard-won fights in life.
I, however, grieve for the loneliness you suffered, the pain you bore, the hopelessness and mental torture that decayed you and your cherished dreams.

You created a bauble and it was not made of strong materials. You made it with all the accessories but the result was weak because it was made of ephemeral trappings.

You have forgotten love.

I grieve for you because I showered you with so much love, but you used it to the less important things. You gave it to a sponge who could not give back what you gave to her. I wished and prayed that may my love for you give you comfort wherever you are.

If I could just soar and reach you up there, I would fill you up again with love. I would fortify the cusp where my love won’t ever be used up. I would not let you be far away from me anymore.

Jose, my son.