Three Sundays and Nine Candles

This is how it goes for me.

I still go to church no matter how hopeless I feel. I found that it is still my best sanctuary. Something about it gives me comfort, even in my being alone. 

My crying days are over, but once in a while, when I would pray, my tears would pour out on their own. I don't know what I truly feel. 

After mass, I would drown in my own world of musings.  Pay three dirhams for three tea candles. 

Offer a prayer for each of them. Hoping against hope God would hear whatever it is my heart desires. Honestly, I don't know anymore. 

Three Sundays had passed, and I stood there not knowing what to say.

Is there anything I should ask for?

I don't think what I have been praying for is what God wants for me.

Is this giving up?  Or shall I call this faith? That despite the uncertainty I feel, I just keep on living, knowing things will get better eventually.

I stopped asking for what I want... because I don't know what I want anymore. I am afraid to ask because I do not trust my choices. 

One candle for all the people I promised I would pray for.

Another candle for all the broken hearted and lost souls trying to find their way home.

One for all I know who are in dire need of physical healing.

Fourth, for all those whom I have hurt.

Fifth, for all those who hurt me.

Sixth, for the people I have taken for granted.

Seventh, for my loved ones. That they may live longer than I.

Eighth, for all those who can't protect themselves from emotional and physical abuse.

Ninth... for those who I care about silently.  That while they feel they need me, I know it's best that I care for them from a distance.

This is how it goes for me.  Each and every time I go to my true sanctuary.  I feel like I don't have the right to ask for myself anymore... because I don't know what I truly want to start with.