unsentdraftsonly

​Thoughts that were too much.

​Words that were too late.

I’m the only one who can ask myself these questions. We aren’t able to ask each other. There are four of us siblings and I am the youngest, but the weight of all our expenses now falls on me because I’m the one running this small business.

With everything that has happened recently, my mind hasn't been at peace. Where will we get the money to pay this person? We’re still short on the payment for that. We still need to buy this. We need medicine for that.

There are so many needs, and I no longer know where or how [to provide for them]. I know this is a trial, and we are fighting hard because we are together, and we know we can overcome this.

But I can’t help feeling stressed. It’s hard to hold it back. We each have our own burdens that we can’t seem to voice out... but sometimes, it just gets draining. I know we aren’t the only ones facing this kind of problem—there are others whose situations are worse—but it’s different when you are the one actually in the situation.

For now, I can say that I can still manage, even if I’m not really okay. There is still so much overthinking going through my mind. We are still fighting, getting by, and laughing.

I continue to thank God because He truly never leaves us, and we honestly believe that... "God will provide." We have proven and tested that, because every time we are in need, He always provides. 😇

As long as it’s little by little, slowly but surely... everything will be okay again. 🙏

It’s been almost a month since my father was discharged from the hospital. He is continuing his treatment. Thank God, his dialysis is now only once a week. His health is improving. Everything is starting to normalize.

However, our finances are still tight. I am thankful for our small *kakanin* (native delicacy) business because, in one way or another, we aren't completely empty-handed. We are able to cover the 10k weekly budget needed for his check-ups, medicines, and other necessities. The only thing is, I am still trying my best to save up for our [utility] bills.

We are still thankful, grateful, and blessed because we are all doing well. No one else is getting sick, and customers continue to come in, even if it’s just one or two a day.

Thank You, God! I love You! 😇

​He was diagnosed with an Acute Kidney Infection and is currently on temporary dialysis, with no certain timeline for how long it will last. He still cannot urinate on his own, so he is back on a catheter. 😔

​He was scheduled to come home last week, but a new infection triggered breathing difficulties and a low-grade fever. This required a whole new round of lab tests, x-rays, ECGs, and other diagnostics to pinpoint the source of the bacteria.

​Now that the doctors have identified it, he faces yet another continuous treatment plan at home.

​I am completely exhausted trying to figure out how to raise the 10,000 PHP needed every week. The income from our small business is simply not enough to cover it.

​But because we love our parents deeply, we will do whatever it takes to find the means. We don't care if we fall into heavy debt, as long as you get better, Tay.

​If anyone knows of a way we could borrow a larger lump sum with flexible repayment terms, that would be an immense help. 🙏🥺

Why does being poor have to be so damn hard? Sometimes it just makes you want to cry, it’s so stressful. I don’t even know where to look for help anymore.

Dad needs to be admitted to the hospital today. Home remedies and just taking medicine aren't enough anymore; he needs a doctor closely monitoring him.

It’s exhausting to deal with all these "what ifs" and second-guesses. Maybe it's because of this, or maybe it's because of that. Maybe we should do this, or maybe we should have done that.

I’m completely running out of money. I don't even know where else we can get what we need.

If we try to admit him to a public hospital, it'll be packed and we don't even know if they'll take him in right away. If we go to a private one, it's expensive, but at least he's guaranteed to be seen immediately. But where on earth am I going to get the money for a private hospital? Loans? Is this where my debt cycle begins?

Here I am again, trying to regain my momentum with my walks. My legs still feel a bit heavy, but honestly, looking at this view right now? It's all worth the effort.

While I was walking earlier, I was just thinking about how fast everything is moving. Sometimes, the noise of work and the pressure to always be "productive" can feel overwhelming. But when I looked up at the sky, I suddenly stopped in my tracks. That sunset behind the mountain... it's like the universe is gently reminding me to "slow down".

My realizations for today:

♡ Rest is not a waste of time. Sometimes I feel like I always need to move fast, but even the sun needs to set in order to reset.

♡ Consistency over intensity. I don't need to run a marathon right away. What matters is that I stepped out of the house and walked, even for just 30 minutes.

♡ Perspective matters. From afar, the mountain looks quiet and peaceful, but I know it's steep up there too. It's just like life—it’s all about how you view the climb.

The colors of the sky are so beautiful—that orange hue blending into the darkness. It’s a beautiful ending to a long day. As I walk back, I'm bringing this peace of mind with me. I feel lighter, not because I lost weight (I wish!), but because I let go of my worries for a moment.

I hope tomorrow is just like this. Tomorrow brings a fresh start. But for now, this sunset is enough to say: “You did well today.”

51726//534`

The horizon is finally standing still, and that’s how I know the dream is over.

For three days, the only clock I followed was the tide, and the only "deadline" was catching the sunset before it dipped below the blue. There’s a specific kind of silence you find out on the water—a humming peace where the world’s noise just... evaporates. You start to think, *Maybe I could just stay here. Maybe I’m meant to be a person of salt and spray.*

But the boat is heading toward the shore now. The engine’s rhythm feels less like a lullaby and more like a countdown. In an hour, the blue will be replaced by gray asphalt; the sound of the waves will turn into the ping of notifications.

It’s a heavy sort of transition, stepping off the wood and back onto solid ground. I’m carrying back a bit of a tan, a lot of sand in my shoes, and a soul that’s finally had a chance to breathe. Reality is waiting at the dock, unmoving and demanding, but for just a few more minutes, I’m going to keep my eyes on the wake we’re leaving behind.

Back to the grind. Back to the "real" world. But at least I know what peace looks like now.

There’s something about this light—the way the sun just starts to bleed into the horizon—that makes everything feel quiet. In your 30s, you expect the world to be loud, full of settled paths and finished stories. But here I am, still walking along the edge of the water, still figuring out the rhythm of my own steps.

People talk about being single like it’s a waiting room, but this doesn’t feel like waiting. It feels like breathing.

Every day is a fight, sure. There are bills, responsibilities, and the weight of being the one who has to show up for themselves, time and time after. But there’s a strange, beautiful power in that survival. I am my own anchor.

I look at this view and I don’t feel like I’m missing a piece of a puzzle. I feel whole, even in the struggle. Contentment isn't the absence of wanting more; it’s the presence of peace with what is. The sun comes up whether you’re ready or not, and today, I’m choosing to meet it halfway.

Still fighting. Still here. And honestly? Still just getting started.

​There is something magical about this hour. It’s 3:00 AM. No crowds, no engine noise—just the rhythmic, persistent crash of waves against the shore. The sea has its own pulse; it feels like it’s breathing, like it’s actually listening.

​It’s incredible, isn't it? No matter how chaotic the world gets beyond these sands, the ocean just keeps going. It never tires. Sometimes I think life should be lived the same way. There are days when the current is overwhelming and days when everything is still, but the important thing is that it never stops moving.

​

​As I stare at the horizon where the black sky meets the dark water, I can’t help but ask myself:

​Where am I really headed?

Sometimes it feels like I’m just drifting with the tide, unsure of where I’ll eventually wash up.

​What truly matters?

Is it the ambitious dreams I had as a child, or is it this profound peace of mind I’m feeling right now?

​Why are we always in such a rush?

We spend so much energy chasing the "future" that we completely forget we are living in the "now."

​

​The chill in the air brings a strange kind of comfort. It’s as if it’s telling me that it’s okay not to have all the answers yet. It’s okay to pause, to breathe, and to listen to my own heartbeat synchronized with the sound of the water.

​They say every wave that hits the sand leaves something behind. Perhaps every trial is like that—they take a piece of us, but they also leave behind a new lesson or a fresh start.

​"The ocean stirs the heart, inspires the imagination and brings eternal joy to the soul." — Robert Wyland

​I’m taking a deep breath now, savoring the salt in the air and the silence of the early morning. When I leave this spot, I hope to carry this stillness with me, no matter how heavy the storms might be tomorrow.

​Sometimes, a deep sigh and the honesty to admit we need a moment of silence are enough. At this hour, everything becomes clearer because there’s nothing else to mind but yourself and the sea. If you’re imagining this breeze right now, cherish the thought. We aren't always given the chance to stop and listen to our own reflections.

41526//327'

I was in an unrequited love story with a guy who didn't know I existed. I found myself secretly in love with him for years. Even though I’ve moved on, I still want to greet him because it has become a tradition for me, even though he never reads it. I’m finding the courage to send a birthday greeting anonymously. He’s happily married now with a kid, and I’m just happy for him. :)

I pray, I pray about everything in my life.

I pray before my day starts.

I pray about who has access to me.

I pray before I speak, before I move, before I make decisions,I pray, consistently, and when nothing seems to be changing, I trust that God is still working for my good.

What people call luck is actually alignment.

I remind myself that delay is not denial.

Every rejection is just redirection, is something bigger and better.

What people call confidence is really trust in God's timing.

So even when I'm confused, I think God, even when I don't understand, I trust that one day, it will make sense.

And I remind myself often I once prayed for the things I have today.

So, no, I'm not lucky.

I'm intentional, I'm protected, and I'm guided.

And if you think it's luck, maybe it's time for you to start praying too.

©️ Speaker: Katrinafit

The glow of the smartphone screen used to be Dee’s only sanctuary. For years, it was her ritual: wake up, refresh Ky’s profile, and memorize the lines of a life she wasn’t a part of. She knew his favorite coffee shop from a tagged photo and his sense of humor from a witty caption. To him, she was just a number in a follower count. To her, he was a silent prayer she repeated every night.

But tonight, the room was dark, and the phone stayed face down on the nightstand.

Dee sat by the window, watching the streetlights flicker as the weight of "waiting for a maybe" settled into a physical ache. What had started as a spark—a shared interest in an obscure indie film—had mutated into something heavy and consuming. She was tired, not of Ky himself, but of the version of herself that existed only in the shadows of his digital life.

​She realized she had built an entire cathedral of love for a man who didn't even know her name. It wasn't that Ky was a bad person; he was simply a ghost she had invited to live in her head. Through months that became years, she spent her nights bargaining with the universe. She would whisper into the dark, ''Just let our paths cross—give me a sign that this isn't one-sided madness.'"

​But the sign never came. Instead, she found herself trapped in a cycle of checking his "active" status, her heart sinking whenever the green dot vanished. She wondered if he was talking to someone who actually knew the sound of his laugh, while she remained on the outside.

​Ultimately, an icy realization took hold: she was decorating a room in a house she didn't own. Exhausted from the labor of loving a ghost, she finally saw the truth—she had been a devoted architect for a man who was never really there.

She picked up her journal and wrote the words that had been simmering in her soul:

“I’ve stopped mentioning your name to God.”

It felt like a confession. It wasn't an act of anger or a dramatic flare-up of ego. It was a gentle, necessary surrender.

She stopped asking for a "sign" from Ky.

She started asking for peace for herself.

To become a person who didn't need a stranger’s validation to feel whole.

She realized that every minute spent decoding his cryptic posts was a minute she wasn't investing in her own dreams. She was done being a spectator in someone else’s story while her own pages remained blank.

Dee felt a strange, light sensation in her chest. For the first time in years, she didn't feel the itch to check if he’d posted a new story. The "what ifs" that used to scream in the middle of the night were now just faint whispers, easily ignored.

She wasn't closing her heart to love; she was just changing the locks. She was preparing her heart—not for a digital crush, but for a real, tangible connection. She was making room for someone who would look at her, not a screen.

As she closed her journal, Dee smiled. She had finally stopped praying for a "him" and started praying for herself.

She was finally right for the right person: herself.

​I’ve stopped mentioning your name to God.

​It’s not because I’ve stopped wanting you, or because I’m tired of waiting. It’s not even that I’ve lost my patience with fate. I didn’t stop because I’m scared, or because I’m letting the "what ifs" get the best of me.

​I stopped… because this time, I’m putting myself first.

​I’ve started praying for my own heart instead.

I’m praying that I don't get exhausted just waiting for a "maybe."

I’m asking for the strength to be patient without bitterness.

I’m asking the Lord to teach me how to risk it all again—to show me how to open my heart's door even though it’s been slammed shut before.

​I’m praying that when the next time comes, I’ll have the strength to ignore those voices that whisper "what if" in the middle of the night.

​I’m preparing my heart first.

So I can be right…

For the right person.

32326//1016'

Scrolling through my feed and this song just wouldn't leave my head. So, naturally, I had to take it to the bathroom for a quick solo session! 🎤🚿

​When you’ve got things to share but no one to send them to. 😂

Single life, honestly. 😂

I see you. I see you sitting there in the dark, staring at a screen that won’t load, feeling like your world is ending because a profile won't pop up. I see the "sugat-sugat" hands you wrote about—the way you were gripping onto a ghost until your palms bled.

You called yourself buang, baliw, gaga, and tanga. You were so mean to yourself that night. You wanted a medal for your martyrdom, but all you really wanted was for A to be the one to hang it around your neck.

I have some news for you, eight years later.

You survived.

That "pahinga" you kept talking about? You finally took it. And eventually, you stopped reaching for your phone the second you woke up. You stopped being a "stalker" because you realized that looking for him was like drinking saltwater to quench your thirst. You finally "graduated," not because he gave you a medal, but because you walked out of that classroom and realized the sun was still shining outside of him.

But I have to be honest with you: A is still here.

Not in the way you think. I don’t cry over him at 11:18 PM anymore. I don’t check if I’m blocked. I’ve moved on. I’ve lived a thousand lives since that May night. But he is "sa sistema ko." He is the glitch in my software. He is the reason I’m careful with my heart, and he’s the reason I know exactly how much I am capable of giving.

You were so proud of your 4 years of silent love. Well, that love became a part of our DNA. It’s not a "sakit sa puso" anymore; it’s just a quiet scar. Sometimes it itches when it rains, or when a certain song plays, or when I see a date on a calendar.

So, don't be so hard on yourself for being "dakila." You weren't stupid; you were just brave enough to feel something that deeply, even if it was for the wrong person.

You told yourself, "Kakayanin ko ulit."

You did. You stayed "matatag." But the strength didn't come from holding on to him—it came from the moment you finally let go and realized you didn't fall. You flew.

He’s still in the system, but he no longer runs the program.

With love and a much lighter heart,

Dee

-

​Moved on na, pero may mga files talaga na hindi mo ma-force delete. It’s not about waiting for him anymore; it’s about honoring the version of me that loved that hard. 11:18 PM is no longer a time of crying—it’s just a memory now. 💾✨

The Echo of 11:18 PM

Dee sat by the window, the glow of her phone illuminating a face that looked much older than it did back in 2017. She had just finished deleting old files when she stumbled upon a screenshot of a Note she wrote on May 6, 2017, at 11:18 PM.

Reading it felt like a physical blow to the chest.

"Nakakaawa ka na babae," her younger self had written. "Brokenhearted ka na naman dahil sa kanya."

She remembered that night. The raw desperation of being a "stalker" just to feel a connection. The frantic search for a profile that wouldn't load. The labels she threw at herself: buang, baliw, martyr, tanga. Back then, she was holding on with bloody hands, proud of her "honor" status in the school of unrequited love.

If you asked Dee today, she’d tell you she’s moved on. She has a life, a career, and days where his name doesn't even cross her mind. But "A" wasn't just a person anymore; he was a system error.

She could close the tab, but the process was still running in the background, consuming her memory.

She looked at the old Note again: "4 years na nga eh, pero di mo alam."

It had been nearly a decade now. The "pahinga" she promised herself back then had turned into years of silence. She had stopped checking his profile. She had stopped hoping for a medal. She had finally "graduated" from the drama, yet she realized that moving on and letting go are two very different things.

Dee realized that she wasn't waiting for "A" anymore. She didn't want the version of him that existed now. What she couldn't shake was the version of herself that loved him—that girl who was willing to hold on until her hands were "sugat-sugat."

She was no longer the "martyr" she scolded in 2017, but "A" remained the benchmark of her greatest capacity to love. He was the ink that leaked in her pocket; she had washed the pants a thousand times, but the faint blue stain remained, a permanent part of the fabric.

She closed the screenshot and locked her phone.

"Mahal na mahal kita, A," the note ended.

Dee whispered it into the quiet room—not as a confession of current desire, but as an acknowledgment of a long-standing truth. She was moved on, yes. But some people don't just leave your life; they stay in your system like a heartbeat you've learned to ignore, until the room gets quiet enough to hear it again.

Don't listen to the voice inside your head

You're doing just fine

You're trying your best

If no one ever told you it's all gonna be okay