Unless you have been visiting the Himalayas and not able to get an internet connection or for some reason you haven’t been watching the news because you’ve been busy elsewhere or maybe you’re not in the same country as I am then you wouldn’t have known about the sixteen year old who was gang raped at a rave party over the weekend at Pitt Meadows, BC.

Yeah. A sixteen year old was gang raped at a rave party over the weekend at Pitt Meadows, BC. In particular circumstances, the victim usually goes to her parents to help her report the crime to the police if not her go to cops directly. But based on the news reports the cops were able to learn about the rape only the following day after another teen saw the photos on Facebook, printed them and brought them to police.

Apparently another sixteen year old was present while the teenage girl was being assaulted and took photos, shared them with friends via cellphone and the pictures were eventually posted in Facebook. Now, no degree or level of education will deter from pointing out that there is seriously something wrong with the moral compass of these children.

As a rape victim, I can empathize with the horrendous ordeal she is going through. It is not easy to move forward to and it is not something one ever forgets. But to have her photos during her abuse be viewed, shared, saved, and reposted numerous times is like reliving the incident again and again. Every time someone views this images she is judged, she is pitied, she is raped all over again by voyeurs and the mini-feed that Facebook has makes her life fodder for more unnecessary tabloid. To say that what they have done (rape) is disgusting, morally corrupt and criminal those who have spread her pictures and made it viral in the internet to be visually consumed by all forms of people makes it vile, cruel, and makes her horrendous ordeal seeming trite.

I don't know which is more difficult. To have your pictures taken while you are drugged and being sexually assaulted and have it posted in the biggest social networking site in the entire world OR have the same people who posted it, people who do not know the victim, people who are “friends” of the victim made comments in Facebook about the sex assault victim being a willing participant to the hellish experience. Seriously! I speak for all women when I state: WE DO NOT WANT TO BE RAPED! WE ARE NOT WILLING PARTICIPANTS TO SEXUAL ASSAULT! AND WE DIE IN SHAME WHEN WE ARE VICTIMIZED BY ANY FORM OF ASSAULT! BECAUSE WE KNOW THAT SOCIETY WILL SAY IT’S OUR FAULT, WE HAD IT COMING, THAT WE WANTED IT DONE TO US. These people that say she voluntarily wanted to be assaulted (despite physical and medical evidence disproving their bold claims) talk as if they were not born from a woman... if it happened to their mother or their sister I bet they'd whine and whimper and cry foul.

I am angry. For the heinous assault that reflects the rotten core of our permissive society. For how easily a social networking site can be used as another form of bullying and assault. For how parents nowadays kowtow to their children’s whims rather than impose order and provide a God-based direction for them to follow. For the double standards we are using against people and fooling ourselves that we are much better than the rest. For our self-centered society has lost its moral compass.

We have learned to fly to the moon but our characters have plummeted to the pits of hell. We have worked on saving the planet but more souls are dying from immorality. We have learned to use quick fixes to remedy problems that require long term solutions. We have learned to love ourselves so much that we’ve lost the ability to love others and behave in a dignified manner towards are fellow human beings.

Somehow despite the technological advances of the 21st century human beings regressed and eliminated the humane side of our beings that we are now simply just “man”. It’s about time to re-establish our ethical boundaries that we’ve crossed and instead of just harping about it, living it in our homes and in our own lives.

I remember this day nine years ago. I was on my way back home from a trip. I was trying to run away and hide from a man who made me fall in love, promised a future with him only to break his word, my heart, and my faith. He flew eight thousand five hundred miles to look for me and win me back and mend the broken vows he’s given me. Afraid of the possibility of hurting me all over again I packed my bags, bought ticket and flew south where he can never find me.

Today, nine years ago, I had landed back to Cebu and thought I was on the clear and he has gone back to Indianapolis in his cozy American life. As I waited for the carousel to spit my luggage I looked at the front page of the newspaper the man beside me was holding. I see a picture of a very tall building and from it thick smoke billowed to the sky. Curiously, I scanned the waiting area for a TV and walked up to it mesmerized by a silent TV broadcasting CNN’s news of two planes crash into the World Trade Center Towers.

As horror gripped me and anger filled my heart I came to realize how foolish I was running and hiding from a man who broke my heart. My pain paled in comparison to these people who died without reason, people who trying to save those trapped in the building, and people who’ve died to pursue the war against terror. And so that night as the man I was hiding from sent me an urgent message to have dinner with me, I said yes and chose the best outfit in my wardrobe. Yes he broke my heart, but he didn’t break my spirit. I thought that I am blessed to be alive and learn and continue living and someday I will find that one person who is meant to keep his promises and shape a future with him.

Today, I remember nine years ago. I remember it like it was yesterday. Except I feel no pain or fear. In contrary, I feel elated that what I realized that day is now happening. But the many unnamed faces who’ve we’ve lost tragically I will forever be grateful. If it was not for them, I would not have been a stronger person. And if not for them, I would have not valued my life.

Some days I put the people in their places at the table,

bend their legs at the knees,

if they come with that feature,

and fix them into the tiny wooden chairs.

All afternoon they face one another,

the man in the brown suit,

the woman in the blue dress,

perfectly motionless, perfectly behaved.

But other days, I am the one

who is lifted up by the ribs,

then lowered into the dining room of a dollhouse

to sit with the others at the long table.

Dear  Brian,

I’ve started writing you now while you are getting ready for work. You know, I have you on the phone too and I’m playing Margaritaville in my iPhone. This isn’t really anything new to you. I mean me writing you a letter. I know I’ve sent you so many over the past few months and this one will just be one of the many and the many more that will come. And possibly like my previous letters I’ll profess my undying love for you and end this hoping it will touch your heart and probably make you somewhat a bit misty-eyed for me. That’s what I hope it will turn out. But then I’m getting a case of writer’s block. I feel panic rising up in me. The same kind of panic I felt when I am about to do a very frightening task... like something really life changing. Except this one doesn’t seem like it is. It’s the challenge of putting to words how much I love you that I find an unnerving task. With all the words I’ve written and all the conversations we’ve had about our feelings for each other, I’m concerned that all words are all used up and my brain has nothing more to say.

One can only wonder how many times they can write and talk about Love. And I guess that’s the reason why books, songs, stories are written about it because it’s such a complex emotion. I must say for me it has been intricate and more than once I was afraid I was getting total insane with the push and pull of emotions as I understand what loving and being loved is. For in my life I had never encountered anyone who was able to melt my hard resolve to not fall really in love. Neither have I met anyone who was able to made me feel so much pain of too much tenderness. To break down in silly giggles and whisper sweet nothings was also something I’ve never imagined doing with someone. To feel wounded because of unlearning bad behaviors in a relationship wasn’t something I would have ever allowed myself to experience in the past. And to do it willingly and joyfully! I would have scoffed at anyone who tried to make that happen.

I suppose, avoiding hurt was easier than nursing one. So it had always been more convenient for me to protect myself from pain, from rejection, from falling in love so much I’d look like a stupid fool. I’ve made sure no one will come close enough in me to break me, not even God. And while I made boundaries so that people won’t hurt me, that same boundaries kept me from waking up with a winged heart and a thankful spirit for another day with my beloved. To smile remembering something sweet or funny or fulfilling. Or go to bed with a prayer in my heart and praise on my lips.

You can say I’ve built a fortress. An impenetrable one. Yet even when I was building it and hiding behind it I’ve always known someone would come around one day and tear it down, brick by brick until my heart will be exposed for him to claim. And for you to come around and do it seems like life’s way of humoring me. Who else could invade a fortress, tear it down brick by brick, expose a heart and hold it captive but someone who’s been a trooper, construction worker, and an enforcer of the law. Despite my heathen nature, God must really love me because He heard my prayer a long time ago and put a check mark on each of the action item I asked in the man I want to be with.

Perhaps it was my naiveté in love and loving, but it took me awhile to realize that as much as you love me, your love is not sufficient to make and keep what we have. As much as I love you, I had to learn to trust you and earn your trust. I had to learn to have faith in God and have faith in you. I had to learn to understand and accept our differences. But above all, I had to learn that when the going gets tough, not to quit. Because that’s what it means to love someone - absolute. And love and loving someone despite all odds and challenges is still a choice, like everything else in life. These were hard lessons. And for the most part I am still learning it. It hasn’t always been rosy and easy. But like what you tell me time and again, “If it’s not difficult to achieve, it’s not worth taking.” I suppose God has a plan for my life because He brought you by my side to show me how much He loves me and remind me how unconditional His love is for me every time you say you love me despite the arguments and fights.

We were born to be together, and together we will be forevermore. I am not perfect but I am made perfectly to be the woman for you. And after so much words perhaps I wasn’t really able to articulate how much I love you. Maybe I will never be able to, ever. But I know this, all the days of my life I will hold you, stand by you, love you. And I pray that everyday will be the proof that I mean what I say, when I say I do love you.

❤,

Darla