The last stage of grief, according to “DABDA” - denial, anger, bargaining, and depression - is acceptance. It comes when you’ve made peace with the past, that moment you don’t twitch or flinch when you hear either name or story again. For the battle-scarred and weary, it paves the way for surrender to the unknown future.
Sarah Geronimo shows us how it goes, as she plays to type again, in “Maybe This Time”. Unable to forget a summer fling from seven years ago, Sarah as Steph is all set up and primed for confrontation, because well, that’s drama. All the great loves must have a second chance – even the war movie “Atonement” emotively makes this point – to test if, with a little wind, the embers would burst into conflagration, where the same would have extinguished mediocre passions.
What happens over seven years is a little contrived, that’s why Coco Martin as Tonio appears to be explaining half of the time how he winded up in Italy, how he ended up with a snooty ad executive, and so on. It takes both of Sarah and Coco’s real-world sincerities to make the story less incredulous, with little help from the other third of the triangle, Ruffa Gutierrez, who barely draws empathy from an audience she has outgrown.
Yet the movie is unapologetic about interweaving all the emotional baggage. Steph’s paraplegic father, her well-meaning but interfering mother, Tonio’s hang-ups, his insecurities, all figure in the resolution. The twist, of course, lies in whatever wasn’t said – what they didn’t have the courage to talk about, what they didn’t think was important, and what hurt too much to say. Of course everybody deserves an explanation. So as always, the lesson is: good communication is key to any good relationship.
In the movies, the unraveling makes for great cinematic impact. On top of a hill, in an old park, on a rooftop, in a place full of memories. The view has to be sweeping, grand, the wide expanse reflecting the enormity of the moment. When the flashbacks come, whether on screen or in your head, it’s deliriously poignant. (The feels.) It’s a turmoil of the ugly, sad, exasperating, confusing. One can only imagine how the waterfall of tears is soothingly welcome for the soul.
That “moment” couldn’t have been any more different, but all the same for “Maybe This Time” and Toni Gonzaga’s “Starting Over Again”, or for that matter, Sarah’s “It Takes a Man and a Woman”. The girl gets through DABDA, ending up fiercer, bolder, stronger. They get closure with a deep heart-to-heart face-off, tense, explosive, and as always, cathartic. Filipino fans won’t have it any other way; when you cut, you cut clean.
Moving on means letting go, not of the lesson, but of the negative feelings – most especially the pain, and the never-ending wail of “why me”. It’s not the same as just turning your back and walking away, hoping time heals all wounds. Letting go of the blame, regret, and resentment takes time and a lot of effort. In some ways, it’s like losing weight, or overcoming an addiction. You have to make sure you don’t relapse. True as when you’re getting out of any other bad habit, the change starts from within.
So the saying goes, if you can’t change the situation, at least, change your attitude. Choose to be more positive, more forgiving, more gracious. There’s a lot of literature about wellness and moving on to a new you. Seek out yoga, hypnotherapy, running. Camp out in the mountains, beaches, pretty parks. Make new memories and weave new dreams. Bourgeoisify, like Steph and Tonio, and put up your own company. Proletarianize, like the ordinary Juan, and throw yourself into work.
But should you forget? The answer isn’t quite clear. In “Maybe This Time” and all other Sarah movies the signs all point to a happy ever after with the same person, so forgetting is not an option. In “Starting Over Again”, Toni wisely chooses to just remember the past fondly. “I can’t unlove you, I’ll just love you in a different way,” she tells her ex-lover. It’s a dangerous ground to tread, to remember the boy because you might remember the feelings too. For some people it works, for others, definitely no.
The worst problem with memories, is they come with what ifs. The more you think about it, the more the possibilities become elaborate. It could be paralyzing, bordering on delusional, when overdone. But in small measures, it can be liberating. Come to think about it, this is true not only for romantic heartbreaks, but in some ways for all sorts of heartbreak. Imagine having a brother, or a sister, or a child plucked from your lives, for and by something bigger than yourself. You supplant the enduring anguish of not knowing, with the overpowering hope that maybe, somewhere out there, they’re smiling.
For heartbreak clubbers, one good lesson has been take it from the mothers of the desparecidos, be be strong, be serene. Turn the anger and the pain into something productive, not only for yourself but for others. Try to right the wrongs, make amends, and jail the perpetators, ermm oops got carried away. Accept things, but only to the point to ensure it does not happen again. All said, be free to begin again. Like Taylor Swift “thinking all love ever does is break and burn and end,” someday have the courage to say, “but on a Wednesday, in a cafe, I watched it begin again.”
Krissy Conti still prefers Sarah and John Lloyd over Sarah and Coco.
Sarah Geronimo shows us how it goes, as she plays to type again, in “Maybe This Time”. Unable to forget a summer fling from seven years ago, Sarah as Steph is all set up and primed for confrontation, because well, that’s drama. All the great loves must have a second chance – even the war movie “Atonement” emotively makes this point – to test if, with a little wind, the embers would burst into conflagration, where the same would have extinguished mediocre passions.
What happens over seven years is a little contrived, that’s why Coco Martin as Tonio appears to be explaining half of the time how he winded up in Italy, how he ended up with a snooty ad executive, and so on. It takes both of Sarah and Coco’s real-world sincerities to make the story less incredulous, with little help from the other third of the triangle, Ruffa Gutierrez, who barely draws empathy from an audience she has outgrown.
Yet the movie is unapologetic about interweaving all the emotional baggage. Steph’s paraplegic father, her well-meaning but interfering mother, Tonio’s hang-ups, his insecurities, all figure in the resolution. The twist, of course, lies in whatever wasn’t said – what they didn’t have the courage to talk about, what they didn’t think was important, and what hurt too much to say. Of course everybody deserves an explanation. So as always, the lesson is: good communication is key to any good relationship.
In the movies, the unraveling makes for great cinematic impact. On top of a hill, in an old park, on a rooftop, in a place full of memories. The view has to be sweeping, grand, the wide expanse reflecting the enormity of the moment. When the flashbacks come, whether on screen or in your head, it’s deliriously poignant. (The feels.) It’s a turmoil of the ugly, sad, exasperating, confusing. One can only imagine how the waterfall of tears is soothingly welcome for the soul.
That “moment” couldn’t have been any more different, but all the same for “Maybe This Time” and Toni Gonzaga’s “Starting Over Again”, or for that matter, Sarah’s “It Takes a Man and a Woman”. The girl gets through DABDA, ending up fiercer, bolder, stronger. They get closure with a deep heart-to-heart face-off, tense, explosive, and as always, cathartic. Filipino fans won’t have it any other way; when you cut, you cut clean.
Moving on means letting go, not of the lesson, but of the negative feelings – most especially the pain, and the never-ending wail of “why me”. It’s not the same as just turning your back and walking away, hoping time heals all wounds. Letting go of the blame, regret, and resentment takes time and a lot of effort. In some ways, it’s like losing weight, or overcoming an addiction. You have to make sure you don’t relapse. True as when you’re getting out of any other bad habit, the change starts from within.
So the saying goes, if you can’t change the situation, at least, change your attitude. Choose to be more positive, more forgiving, more gracious. There’s a lot of literature about wellness and moving on to a new you. Seek out yoga, hypnotherapy, running. Camp out in the mountains, beaches, pretty parks. Make new memories and weave new dreams. Bourgeoisify, like Steph and Tonio, and put up your own company. Proletarianize, like the ordinary Juan, and throw yourself into work.
But should you forget? The answer isn’t quite clear. In “Maybe This Time” and all other Sarah movies the signs all point to a happy ever after with the same person, so forgetting is not an option. In “Starting Over Again”, Toni wisely chooses to just remember the past fondly. “I can’t unlove you, I’ll just love you in a different way,” she tells her ex-lover. It’s a dangerous ground to tread, to remember the boy because you might remember the feelings too. For some people it works, for others, definitely no.
The worst problem with memories, is they come with what ifs. The more you think about it, the more the possibilities become elaborate. It could be paralyzing, bordering on delusional, when overdone. But in small measures, it can be liberating. Come to think about it, this is true not only for romantic heartbreaks, but in some ways for all sorts of heartbreak. Imagine having a brother, or a sister, or a child plucked from your lives, for and by something bigger than yourself. You supplant the enduring anguish of not knowing, with the overpowering hope that maybe, somewhere out there, they’re smiling.
For heartbreak clubbers, one good lesson has been take it from the mothers of the desparecidos, be be strong, be serene. Turn the anger and the pain into something productive, not only for yourself but for others. Try to right the wrongs, make amends, and jail the perpetators, ermm oops got carried away. Accept things, but only to the point to ensure it does not happen again. All said, be free to begin again. Like Taylor Swift “thinking all love ever does is break and burn and end,” someday have the courage to say, “but on a Wednesday, in a cafe, I watched it begin again.”
Krissy Conti still prefers Sarah and John Lloyd over Sarah and Coco.