Personal Memories Essay

From the bottom of my memory, I could recall having believed that a person would have only one true love in all of that person's lifetime; I couldn't recall how I came to believe that though. I remember a boy I used to love—or I used to believe that I love—back in my hometown, Inabanga, Bohol. He was close to being the only one I truly loved. We had our share of childhood memories that I used to recall almost all the time until two or three years ago. I still remember him, but I can't recall how I had felt for him. I remember the many times I cried, the wishes I wished and the prayers I've said; if it were some years ago I'd probably fall in love with that person again after having recalled every bit of pain I've gone through by loving him. New love replaced him from time to time, but after new heartbreaks my thoughts would go back to him and I would be inlove with him again. That was the trend, until I met the stranger that was to become the father of my first son who'd be having his first birthday two weeks from now. I didn't love the stranger at first, but with only little knowledge about him he became the first man I made love with, the father of my first son, and the first guy who made me see that love is something that I probably will never be able to comprehend.

Life is hard; love is a little too complicated for a mind like mine which is now stuck in this present full of hatred and sorrow with little, if not almost no regard of the past or even the future. I even wonder how life couldn't just turn out like the movies. I was trying to grasp every scene in "Cinema Paradiso" with the thought of how I punched the face of the father of my son the day before; I love him but I left him with a bleeding lip. With that perception of love, I came to wonder how Salvatore and Elena still loved each other after 30 years of being apart, and how their conversion at the car seemed to erase the years that they hadn't seen or at least heard of each other. Alfredo lost his sight because