Here’s something to waste your time..

Faith
(By: ICHIGO)

When you decide to love a person, it’s not only the person that you love. You must embrace everything about him. His family is your family, his friends are your friends and even his enemies could be your enemies, too. But what if you have different faiths? Whose faith would have to bow down to the other? Who would have to change his mind? Is faith strong enough to destroy lovers? Or is love stronger than faith?

Old maid – that’s what people usually call me. I’m thirty five years old and guess what? I’m not married and don’t even have a boyfriend. My parents are dead. My three sisters are abroad and are all happily married. A loveless, old maid living on her own, that’s me – just so I could complete the description.

Only I wasn’t really loveless nine years ago.

I was 26 back then and what an ideal age it was to get married! I have been together with Sanders for a decade, then.

Sanders – my one true love – how painful it is to remember him.

We were only 16 when we started going out with each other. He was my first kiss, first hug and my last love. He was always full of fun and there never was a dull moment with him. We’ve learned to nurture each other’s strengths and understood each other’s weaknesses. We trusted each other and although there were many girls who tried to win his attention and many guys who tried to win mine’s, we never got into any extra party. He was the world to me – and still is – and I was the world to him.

There was nothing that could stop us from loving each other – not even our parents – except one word:

FAITH.

What a little word it is, but what power it got to put our relationship at the edge of the cliff, I don’t know.

We have different faiths. He was strong and firm upon his as I was with my own faith. We tried to avoid the conversation about our faith as much as we can, but it always came up.

“Where do you want to get married?”
“Ummmm,” I was hesitant to answer, “At the hall of justice.”
“Nah, I don’t want to get married there. I want it at church.” He said, with all the dignity he could muster.
“How about me? I have a church, too, you know. Why don’t we hold one at your church and another at our’s?” I told him, enthusiastically.
“How about our kids? Who would they go with on Sunday’s?”
I didn’t answer.
“Let’s not talk about it now, Sanders.”
“Kim, we cannot not talk about it,” he looked at me pleadingly, then added “it’s either you convert to my religion…or you convert to my religion!”
“What! Are you even giving me a choice?”
He just smiled.

I tried to think it over. But no matter what I do, I cannot embrace the beliefs of his faith. I tried understanding their teachings but wherever the tide took me, I always came back to the truth that my faith has imprinted on me. There was no way I could convert myself. I knew I would never be happy.

On the other hand, Sanders was firm upon his. He never opened himself when I considered sharing to him my faith. He dismissed me whenever I was trying to open it up to him.

Despite the differences in our faith, the love I had for him remained with in me. And so was his love for me, but not for long I guess.

On Sundays he would ask me to come with him to their church. Of course I always said no because I went to a different one. Whenever we got the chance to talk, he would ask me when I plan to convert to his faith. He became more and more persistent. Whenever I tried to match his being persistent about his faith by trying to tell him about mine, he would dismiss me again. I kept my mouth shut for fear of him getting mad at me. Finally, I agreed to come to their church.

During the sermon, I was never relaxed.

He asked me what my problem was, after the church was over.
“Sanders, while the priest was talking, I was thinking of what my Pastor could be teaching at church. Physically, mentally and in my heart I was happy because I was with you. But I was spiritually dry.”

He never spoke to me again.
 
Sanders became more and more distant. He started going out more with his friends. Whenever I asked him to go out with me, he would say that he was busy with work. If not about work, he was at their church. I tried drowning myself with work and church, too, so as I would not feel neglected.

On my 26th birthday, he didn’t show up. I waited for him to call, or text or even drop by our house but he didn’t.

The next day he showed up at our house wearing a tuxedo.

“Surprise!”
I ran to him and rained him with kisses.
“Sanders, I missed you!” I looked at him and laughed at his outfit, “Haha! Why are you wearing that?”
He went on his knees and said, “This is planned. The last few days I was trying to be aloof to you. Haha! I know it worked because you thought I was really forgetting you. Now, you will never be sad: Will you marry me?”

I can never explain how happy I was at that time. I was filled with joy and I felt that I love him even more.
“Of course I will!”

We excitedly ran inside to tell my parents about it. But the looks in their faces said they weren’t happy about it.

We went to his house to tell his parents about it, too. But the same look in my parents face came across theirs.

Nobody seemed ecstatic about it.

“This put us to come to the part we’ve been dreading in our 10 years of being together.” He said.
“Whose faith would have to bow down to the other?”

“Sanders, do you really love me?”

He went quiet.

“I love you, Kim, believe me I do. I know that you know that. But ma, she doesn’t approve of you ever since she knew of your faith.”

“Sanders, you’re old enough. You can decide on your own.”

“No. I love my mother. And it would hurt her if I convert to you faith..”

“But then, can’t we be together even if we have different…”

“No Kim. We can’t.”

“Sanders, I’ve always tried to listen to you when you tell me about your faith. But in return you never listened to me. It’s like we’re in a court and you’re the judge. You make the judgment even before I testify!”

He went quiet.

“What is faith anyway, Sanders? What is RELIGION has to do with our love? I have loved you even if I knew of your faith, and so did you. I thought everyone has a right to choose his own faith? Why do we have to complicate things and let it ruin our love? We’re about to get married…we’re just getting there…and you tell me we can’t?”

“How about our future kids?”

“Sure, you’re thinking about the kids. Of course it would be hard in the beginning, but later on when they’re older, they would have the right to choose what faith they want to believe in. It’s not about them, Sanders, it’s about us.”

“Okay. It’s about us. And I’m going to be the head of the family, what a shame it would be if my own wife goes to a different church…”

“Sanders, you once told me that you love me more than your own life. But now it seems that your church is your life. And you love it more than you love me.”

“Kim! It’s never right to think like that about the church and about GOD. And why are we even talking about it? The church is sacred, GOD IS LIFE. What we’re doing is a sin! THIS IS A SIN!”

A lone tear dropped from Sanders’ eyes. I have never seen him cry except today.

“Aaaaaaah, my heart is breaking inside Kim. It seems that we really can’t be together. Our faiths are hindering us.”

With that, he left me and never came back.
Even after nine years, my heart is still breaking inside. I still love Sanders and I don’t know what happened to him. Every night when I pray, I ask the Lord why Sanders and I couldn’t be together. And no answer came. Still, I’m not losing hope. There’s still a part of me that believes that Sanders and I could still be together.

Then the doorbell rang…

I awoke to my senses and went to answer the door.

But it seems like I was still reminiscing when I saw who was at my doorstep, it was Sanders!

“Sanders, what are you doing here?”
“I’m sorry ma’am. Do I know…” then a look of recognition came across his face, “Kim?”
“Yes, Sanders, it’s me!” I cannot contain the happiness anymore. I hugged him and was about to rain him with kisses when…
“Kim,” he started crying, “I’m a priest now. And I’m on a mission to invite the people on the street to the 5pm Mass.”

I cried.

The old maid loves the priest. And the priest loves the old maid.

Their love is too strong that if they can’t be together, they wouldn’t be with anyone else, either. But it didn’t have enough courage to try to power up with faith. I don’t know how to do that, and it’s still a mystery and it’s kind of scary. In my heart, though, I hope that somehow, somewhere, some couple beats the odds.