Jilted One


My friend posted this on Facebook, said he found this on the street while walking. He asked us to write a story behind it. Here’s my attempt at it.ūüôā

Dictated by circumstance, two lovers were forced to be separated by distance, with the girl working abroad and the staying in the Philippines. Over the years, they kept in touch with each other through Skype and Facebook, updating each other with their¬†lives through social media. “I’ll see you soon” was their goodbye and their kisses, their hugs, were expressed in emoticons. It would have to do.

Eventually, the time came when the girl was about to return to the Philippines. “I’m returning next week,” said the girl. It was such on short notice that the guy was caught off guard, that he couldn’t sleep at night. It’s been three years already and, at last, they would see each other again.

Smelling of perfume and fresh after shave, he waited at the spot where they last held their date, before she left. He was holding a bouquet of roses, her favorites.

Trying to distract himself, he kept fiddling with his phone, checking his news feed. Suddenly, he felt a light tap on his shoulders.

It was her.

Her hair might have grown longer than he can remember but he was sure it was her. No one had a smile as bright as hers. Only, it felt like there was something in it. Something was off.

“Hey there.”
“Hey,” they greeted each other awkwardly. This wasn’t the meeting he was expecting.
“I have something to tell you,” said the girl, as she placed her hand on his right arm.
“Tell me later. I reserved a table for us at your favorite restaurant.”
“No, I have to tell you now. You see, I ran into a problem with the Immigration.”
“What? You didn’t tell me about that. What happened?”
“Let me finish. Please. I… I was scared and desperate. I couldn’t go back here, I still had to help my family. I didn’t have a choice. I…”
“What is it?”
“I had no choice. I…”
Then, a tall man arrived, kissed her on the lips, and said, “Is this him? Hi, I’m Kit,” he greeted, his voice thick with British accent.
“Kinasal kami.”

He should have known. He couldn’t breathe. He didn’t know how to react.

“Ahh sige. Ah, may kailangan pala akong puntahan. Paalam.”

He turned his back on her, his future. Or so he thought. He walked as fast as he could. When he was as far away from her as he could, he slammed the bouquet on the ground. He didn’t care if people were looking at him. He was a scorned man, he felt he had the right to be angry. He couldn’t believe he wasted all those years. He was devastated. He was too distracted, so much so that he didn’t notice the car coming his way when he crossed the street.

“But I hope you’re happy,” he thought. He closed his eyes as he lay on the ground, blood flowing from the back of his head. The people surrounding him were growing in number, as they tried to take a look at the man who lost everything.


You must learn her.Featured image

You must know the reason why she is silent. You must trace her weakest spots. You must write to her. You must remind her that you are there. You must know how long it takes for her to give up. You must be there to hold her when she is about to. You must love her because many have tried and failed. And she wants to know that she is worthy to be loved, that she is worthy to be kept. And, this is how you keep her.

-Junot Diaz, This is How You Lose Her

This is how you keep me. If you want to.

If you must know

Awit sa Gabi


Ngayong malalim na ang gabi,
nakadungaw pa rin sa bintana,
Hinihintay ang iyong pagbalik.

Halika na. Umuwi ka na.
(Naririnig mo ba ang aking awit?)

Iiwan kong nakabukas ang ilaw,
ang mga bintana,
para ika’y salubungin
kung ikaw man ay dumating.
(Hindi kita iiwan.)

Saan ka na ngayon?
Nalunod ka ba sa liwanag ng mga bituin?

A little bit


I still keep the stress ball you gave me. You gave it to me at the right time, just when I was panicking about the major test I was about to have in the next few hours then. In the middle of cramming, we got together and had lunch. My mind was drifting off to the test topics I was trying to remember when you called me back to consciousness and showed me what you nicked from the org room. “It was lying there and I secretly got it. It reminded me of you.” You smiled and, immediately, all the voices in my head started to hush. A certain calm took over me and it was one that I needed. You gave it to me.¬†You were always the calm one.

So, tell me, even after all the neverending conversations, stolen glances, and secret smiles, you never felt anything for me?



When I told you how I felt about you, this was the thing I feared the most–the awkwardness, that silence preceding how we would eventually drift apart. You see, that was one of the things I was thinking of, when I was having an internal debate on whether I should do it or not. In the end, I did. And now, we’re here.

In your letter, you told me how you would understand me if I would stay away from you for a while, for me to “let my feelings fade.” Then,¬†when the feelings are gone, we can go back to being the kind of friends we were before. We’d go back to normal. I hope it was that easy, how taking some time off from each other would erase what happened (or didn’t happen) between us. But the thing is, it can’t.

There are times when I wish I didn’t tell you that I liked you. If I didn’t, maybe we wouldn’t be in this situation. Maybe we wouldn’t be walking on broken glass, careful to say words that might hurt the other (or at least hint at how hurt we–or, at least, I–are). This is what the time off from each other is for, for both of us to heal. Or, for the most part, for me to heal, to move on. You already told me you only see me as your best friend. Even though I would’ve prefered you tell me how much you like me too, that’s still better than nothing. I can live with that. At least I know I hold a special place in your heart.

Even though it’s only been a few days since we last talked, I realized how being MIA won’t help us that much. We’ve opened a Pandora’s Box of some sort. We can’t go back to how we were before; we can’t undo what was done nor pretend it didn’t happen because it did. By the time we see each other again for coffee after a period of being absent from each other’s lives, I bet the feelings would come rushing in. All those weeks spent in covering up the dust left by unrequited feelings and unreturned ones will probably go to waste. In that single moment, by the time I see you and your dazzling smile, I know how my heart will beat twice its regular rhythm, like it’s been conditioned to be that way whenever you’re there. Or maybe, it won’t beat that fast but I know there will be a whisper in my ear, saying, “That’s the guy you loved.”

So, I think it’s best if we let time take the reins. No complete detachment for both of us. We can still talk to each other, ask how we’re doing, have random conversations that made me fall for you in the first place. It will be awkward at the start, I know, but isn’t that how we started as friends? Maybe, in time, the feeling will fade, you might learn to like¬†me, or¬†we will still be hurting for both of our loves that were unreturned. But at least we didn’t drift apart. Did I tell you how I have the bad habit of¬†just letting my friendships fade?

People ask me what makes you different from the others. I always tell them that what we had was based on a solid friendship, one we carefully built without the prying eyes of others. It is one which grew from a common love of Fall Out Boy and all the other bands and songs we spent listening to, each song bringing up different memories from both of us.¬†It is a relationship which was a result of seeing each other’s vulnerabilities and secrets, and accepting them without hesitations.

And I guess that’s why I won’t let this friendship fade. I’ll hold on to you, to us. You can tell me to let go (for a while) but I won’t. I choose not to. For now, let me be a friend, if that’s all I can ever be.



Pilit na winawalis

ang alikabok ng iyong alaala.

Mula sa itaas ng lamesa

hanggang sa ilalim ng sofa.

Pilit na tinatago,



palabas ng pintuan.

Ngunit nang

akala mong

malinis na,

pagtingin mong muli



at bumabalik pa rin.

Found my old journal and saw this poem I wrote a few years ago (January 29, 2011).



“Patay! Nakita niya yung¬†bad¬†side ko!”¬†(Shit! She saw my bad side!)

You told me that when I talked to you after you guys lost.¬†Of course, that’s one of the things you were worrying about.¬†With the referee making bad calls and some members of the opposing team playing it rough, you couldn’t help but make a short outburst while on court. On the side, she was watching the game, too. It was her first basketball game.¬†She had no idea about basketball.

In my head, I would’ve told you, “It doesn’t matter.” If I were her, I would’ve liked to see more of that side–the things that make you tick, what annoys you, how and when you get angry. Your bad side is what makes you you, along with the good. Without them, I don’t think you would become the person I have learned to love. You were enough.

I accept you, for all that you are. But I know it is not my acceptance you’re yearning for.