This morning, I woke up to the sound of Angela Bofill, "What loving you has done to me. I'm not the same girl I used to be." A familiar sentience filled me within, laying open a wound which has long been healed - or is still healing. I feel broken, because I am afraid to be broken again.
It is indeed true that you have to resolve your perplexities before you close your eyes at night; so by the time your eyes meet another light, you would feel relieved, renewed. Last night, I tried, but it seemed I did not succeed. The fear which has been gripping me seems to clasp the veins of my heart. So when I woke up at the sound of a mellow tune, I felt my optimism espouse with fear. Yes, fear. I feel broken, because I am afraid to be broken again.
An Angel's Plea
I have been convincing myself that NO, I am not: falling, fearing, breaking.
Not falling: I am an angel who has just been ousted from heaven, punished to guide mortals and protect them with my robust wings. The sacred rule, I always bear in mind: Angels must never ever fall with mortals. In Angels' Black Book, this must be strictly followed. This, I must obey.
Not fearing: because I am not falling, there is no reason for me to fear. There is only one fear that angels have in common: the fear of falling from heaven. Oh, I have already fallen, what else shall I fear? Way back up above, I have had an agoraphobia: the fear of open spaces or of being in crowded, public places like markets; also, the fear of leaving a safe place. My agitation is more similar to that of the latter: I am afraid of leaving a safe place. Nonetheless, now that I have left my safe place, I am up to face that fear. And I already am. No more time to run around, beneath, above that fear; time to leave it behind. Hence, I do not fear. I am not fearing.
More so, I have got a powerful army behind me - saints, martyrs, fellow angels, even the legends of Greek mythology. I have my own line of communication with them that remains open 24 hours a day, seven times a week. This is the thing that mortals and angels have something in common: PRAYER, the only open line to Heaven. Thus, I have nothing to fear of. And you, mortal, yes YOU, you have nothing to fear of. Because rocking the Heaven's hearth is only a prayer away. Our names are etched upon the palms of these warriors and intercessors. And, I believe, God hears the prayer even of punished angels. That's how merciful He is, believe me. When you fear, you pray.
No breaking: has anyone heard of angels with broken hearts? We do break wings, but not break hearts. Like mortals, our heart is covered by a membrane known to man as pericardium. Mortals have their own scientific explanation about this; however, what we know is this: this sac which contains fluid and fiber is abundant in heaven. Like flowers in gardens that can easily be picked, we have it in our own palms. Amazing, isn't? That is why we, angels, have the ability to firmly protect the hearts of mortals, most specifically, those whom we are guarding. To our advantage, we do protect and heal our own hearts.
There is only one thing that breaks our heart: the failure of keeping safe and secure those whom we are assigned to guard. Oh, another fear, atychiphobia: the fear of failure. I fear of failing my responsibility to chaperon, to be an angel. Be that as it may, in my case, I think I am doing a good job. And so I am not breaking, because the mortal who I am keeping my eye on is not breaking.
I am not falling. I am not falling. I am not breaking. I am angel to a mortal.
Despite that, the mellow tune seem to espouse my optimism with fear. Conceivably, I have been a mortal once, who has feared, fallen and has been broken. That is why a wound is laying open again in my heart - which I can hardly heal. From the pain of this wound, I comprehend a familiar voice uttering: I feel I am broken, because I am afraid to be broken again.
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