Written by Alyosha Trinidad

More often than not, we fear the unfamiliar. We would rather remain standing in the middle of a room pitch-black, with our feet seemingly glued to the floor, unable to move and find our way out, because, after all, what could be more frightening than treading uncharted waters? The temporary feeling of security from just staying in the same stance you’ve been for as long as you can remember becomes too assuring you would never want to break away. And it isn’t until it’s too late when we realize all the adventures we have missed from dwelling on the goodbyes, too much, that it overshadows the beauty of hellos. 

I don’t always like it when the clock strikes twelve. I get sick to my stomach when I hear it  chiming, depictive of a brand new day. I find it difficult to pull my sore, heavy body out of bed and start the day knowing too well it’s the safest place I could ever be in. I hate the idea of change and first times, because crossing an unfamiliar bridge without an idea of what lies at the other end would mean I’d have to say goodbye to someone, or something that has been keeping me warm and assured. 

But the high, the rush, the electrifying sensation that surges throughout my body when I know deep in my heart that I’m about to start something new, does not feel so bad after all. 

So I do it anyway. 

I get up anyway. I cross the bridge anyway, and it doesn’t matter whether what’s waiting for me on the other side is a huge garden or just plain grass—I’d love to see it. A new environment terrifies me, but I venture into the unknown anyway. I shoot the ball anyway, even if they say I couldn’t. And oh, it wasn’t so bad after all—the bitter aftertaste of the burnt bread crust from my first time baking—at least I did something new anyway. 

The lingering ounce of fear of starting something afresh still keeps me awake until three in the morning, but I’m braver now. I have learned to embrace the heat of the sunlight that touches my morning face and wakes me up at six, and I’ve mastered the art of courage in facing the challenges that terrify me to the bone.

So, here’s to all the words unsaid, books unread, lyrics unsung, piano keys untouched, streets we refused to walk around, a sport we never got to try, and memories we failed to create because the comfort zone was just a little too comfortable to step out of.  

This time around, we’d do it anyway.