It was a stunning defeat as me and my father had our mouths open wide in disbelief as Manny fell face first to the canvas. My heart was undoubtedly broken and spirit crushed like a bug squashed by the palm of a gargantuan human being. Such tragedies should never have come, but things like these are to be anticipated in big bouts in sports like boxing. It had silenced us both. I still was in the middle of a sentence when the moment had come. Twice then, first when he fell on the third and at the moment of truth. I grit my teeth in both disappointment and anger, praying for it to be mere folly. No. It was over just like that. Our smiles were less and my mouth absent of breath. A sad day for the Philippines, another day at work.
Dark, darker, darkest, there is no difference. All hurts the same. Pain, everlasting, lingering. Pain, day and night. The hours are uncertain. Anything can happen now. Thinking about it hurts. Truth is unreliable. The romance is dead. My heart, it is lost. Unrecoverable, hateful, distrusting. Wishful, perhaps, but I have lost everything before and survived still. This one was special. So special. Embittered, the tip of my tongue tastes. The flavour of my life. Cuisine of kitchens unwanted. It burns, to the heart. I do not understand. I do not understand.