Cold, Cold LA

I lay awake almost the entire night, spending it in silent agony. I was tossing and turning in my bed; doing every possible, thinkable way to get myself to sleep. 10 pm, 11 pm, 12 am, 1 am, and still I lay awake. The night seemed to go on forever, and the sweet sweet morning will never come.

There was no comforting warmth of my sister's or my mom's body sleeping next to me. There was no promises of silly giggles of my nephews and niece, or cool time with my group at my cousin's cafe. There was no promise of tomorrow, as a matter of fact. As I turned on my heater I shivered. Los Angeles has never felt colder.

I thought of the days I would have to spend alone. I thought of the lonely little shoebox apartment I currently called home. I thought of the awful health service here, how I dread being sick or even to get basic service like pap smear. I thought of the police who nonchalantly claim there was no threat in the intimidating e-mails my ex-husband sent to me, when I was scared out of my wit. Here I have no protection. Here I have no one to call my own. Here I spend lonely nights alone. Why am I here again?

The night grew older and still I lay awake for God knows how long. It was already 5.40 am when I opened my eyes, so I did get some sleep. Yet it seemed like I did not get any. I dragged myself out of bed and start prepping for my day. The thought of tasks at work calmed me a bit. Anything is better than the monstrous night. I will have to face him again, but not until 14 more hours. I tried my best to quenched my fear for the impending doom. I will be fine, I lied to my self, I will be fine.

I manage to catch my first bus on time. Then my second. Then my third. The busy city streets gradually change into freeways and then the suburbs. The city sky adorned with flashy city lights and the purple-orange streak of dawn evolve into warm sun lit day blurred by the morning fog. The air grew chilly, and I immediately put on my jacket. Yet unlike the night, I did not feel the chill in my heart. Instead I found a welcoming comfort, a feeling that I belong. This is home.

Changes will happen, obstacles and other challenges will arise; but the morning light will stay the same. Morning will always come after the night. Hope will prevail. Here lies my dreams and my hopes. Here lies the thing I hold dearest: myself. Lonely sleepless nights await me for sure, at least for now. But bright mornings and hopeful days will be there too. When there is hope, there is life.

As I sat here typing these words, shivering to my bones, I can't help but thinking how shallow it all sounds. I must be kidding myself. The odds are stacked against me. I can't think of a single positive outcome of me being here. These words are pitiful words I said to fool myself. How pathetic. Then the sun hit me, graced me with her warmth. Fear is the night, dotted with uncertainties and terrors; hope is the morning, filled with sureness and dreams. Both exist in our life, both inseparable and necessary. As the night will surely comes, the morning will come as well.

I will fear the night later. I will deal with my terrors later. For now I have the morning. For now I have the sun. For now I have hope. For now the cold, cold Los Angeles doesn't bother me. Have a blessed morning, dear readers.