Standstill

"Break na kami."

"Ikaw una ko sinabihan."

Imminent, their end is. But when I was stirred from my nap after Garppy's message caused my phone to vibrate, the only reply I could send is that at long last, he is free. 

It is not that I don't sympathize. He has been preparing himself for the day they would become apart. Garppy does not believe in long-distance arrangement. His ex seem to have abandoned him right after he decided to take up medicine in a provincial school.

It was a clean and mature break-up, my brother said. The regrets that were never spoken has been addressed, with the other accepting the fault. Both are distracted by their individual pursuits, that it appears the separation is just an interlude in their busy lives. Or maybe, they knew all along that it was forthcoming. 

What they needed is to seal the disassociation.

A couple ending their relationship has always been a time of mourning. We would invoke the merits of freedom, but freedom in it's essence means you are on your own. Alone.  As Garppy said, he had not just lost a lover, but also a best friend. They stayed together under one roof, slept in one bed, ate the same meal. They shared tales nobody has ever heard, and made love like tomorrow never happens.

Such union, albeit imperfect, is irreplaceable. And even when my brother has taken aggressive steps to search for another, it will take some time before he can find love again.

I know this because of my own searching. Summer has ended and rains have arrived. Seasons change, clouds continue their march, the sun sets, the moon rises. And yet, with death giving way to life, and lives rise after a tragic fall, I remain unmoved:

My heart still frozen, and in suspended animation.