Through Arab Eyes (English Translated)

Summer 1966, Balabac, Palawan, Philippines Lorena slowly folded what she believed was the last letter she would ever receive. It had arrived just yesterday, brought by a postman, startling her all the more because it came from the Middle East. She had read it over and over again, yet her mind still refused to fully absorb what was written. After a moment, she placed it together with the other letters inside a small box. They were a mixture of love letters, farewells, and apologies—all from two people, received within less than a year. She wiped away the tears she hadn’t even noticed falling, then reached for the only letter she had received from Antonio Garcia. Her eyes scanned its contents once more. It was a letter of apology and explanation—his opinions, his perspective on everything that had happened—written in plain Tagalog. Once again, that familiar tightness gripped her chest. Fate seemed to be playing games with her, and for the second time, she was left in tears. She took a deep breath and looked up, trying to hold back the tears threatening to fall again. Crying wouldn’t help her situation. She set Antonio’s letter down and picked up the two most important ones from the box. After a moment, she brought it to her chest, as if somehow they could give her even a little strength. But her heart felt as though it was slowly being consumed each time the contents of those two letters entered her mind—letters from two different people. One who never found the courage to fight for what his heart was crying out for. And the other, who chose to take responsibility for something that was never his to bear—for what his deceased friend had left behind.