The thing is, I've been told that love should never be hard to find. I've been (or probably still am) a victim of the cliche saying, "If it's meant for you, it will come," but until when should I wait? Is it a blessing or a curse? No one knows for sure.

I'm not one to shy away from pursuing something or someone I love. I've always loved that about myself — always going after what I want until I get to call it mine. But as I grow older, I realized how it also made me very cautious of people and things that are worth my energy. Is it a blessing or a curse? No one knows for sure.

I couldn't understand where your audacity was coming from.

Eleven years after we called it quits, after I completely removed you from my narrative, you kept finding your way back to me in sly little ways—sliding into my DMs, calling at ungodly hours, sending photos, even pestering me on dating apps.

What do you want from me?

We're not friends. And, for the lack of a better term, you're nothing to me.

I acknowledge that hate is a strong word, but let me tell you this: I didn't regret our time together. I didn't regret who we were when we were young. But the person you became after we said our goodbyes—and even in the last few days of our relationship—I loathed him. I hated him.

What makes you think that after all these years, you have the right to pester me?

Eleven years.

Eleven years I kept quiet. I kept it between myself and the people closest to me how you ruined me, how I built the highest walls after tearing them down just so you could hold my heart.

Eleven years. It's been eleven years, but why can't you leave me alone?

Do I need to remind you how fucked up you were? How I didn't do anything to sabotage the relationship you so carelessly tossed away?

Here’s a refresher.

I had a lot of growing up to do when we called it quits more than a decade ago.

We were so young, yet we weren't as naïve as most people our age. We were both smart in different ways, tickled each other's brains like we were meant to do it at exactly the right time.

I was deeply and utterly in love with you, but that didn't stop me from shutting the door when you ruined our relationship. When you shamelessly cheated on me—not once, not twice, but God knows how many times.

So, imagine my surprise when, after all these years, you kept coming back as though none of it ever happened.

I wouldn't be able to pinpoint the exact moment you fell out of love with me, or when you decided I wasn't enough. I wouldn't know.

But I do know exactly when I decided to leave. Did you remember the night it happened? Because I knew it like it was yesterday.

It was almost past nine in the evening when we found ourselves sitting across each other at a pizza joint in Manila. We were both tired and got an entire pie to ourselves, each with a serving of lasagna.

I asked you to get me a hot sauce, and you happily obliged – or so I thought. I playfully took your phone for some photos, and it was then that I knew that you were fucking around.

Notifications popped up one after another. Different women. Different conversations. Then one particular name that made my heart sink.

“I knew it,” I thought to myself. “I fucking knew it.”

“Since when are you fooling me?” I asked when you came back with the hot sauce.

“Since when?” I repeated.

Without a word, you began to cry. I did too. You didn’t, or maybe couldn’t, answer me at all. I should be ashamed to be doing this in a public place, but I was young. How would I know any better?

After what felt like forever, I managed to calm myself down. Even after my heart had been shattered, I gave you another chance to explain yourself. I was eighteen. Loving someone that deeply doesn't make you crazy. It makes you believe they'll still choose you.

“Can you promise to end all of these and stop cheating altogether?”

When I asked you this, I didn’t know what response I was going for, or what I was setting myself up for. But the best thing that you gave me on one of the worst nights of my life is clarity. I have to applaud you for your honesty when you said you couldn’t stop doing it.

Perhaps I should thank you for making the decision so easy. Perhaps I should thank you for forcing me to grow up at eighteen. You spared me from repeating the same mistake with men like you.

It was young love at its finest, and perhaps that's why it hurt so much. When you're eighteen, you're full of hope. Full of dreams. Full of love. I'm not going to sit here and pretend I was a perfect partner. I wasn't. But I did nothing to deserve what you did to me. No one deserves to be cheated on and lied to. If you had simply told me you were unhappy, I would have respected your honesty. Instead, you chose betrayal.

Over the years, I made peace with that. I accepted that you'll always have your own version of the story, one that softens the edges of what happened and makes it easier to live with yourself. That's your burden to carry, not mine. It has never mattered to me whether other people know the truth. It's enough that we do.

When people ask why we broke up, I give them the short version: you cheated. Two words. Simple enough. But the truth is that some wounds stay in the body long after they've left the mind. I moved on years ago, yet my body remembers the pain like muscle memory. Every time I hear about someone being cheated on, I stiffen. I tremble.

The last week of October '23 really challenged my outlook in life and how I want to live in the days to come. I was full of regrets, full of guilt. Admittedly, I wasn't the best person you'll come across who knows all the right things to say or do. I was never that… until I had an epiphany that I wanted to be.

I'm 26, turning 27 in less than two months. Is it too late now to be the person I wanted to become?

Most people would say it will never be too late, but as a mere human, I couldn't help but feel like I wasted so many years trying to become someone I'm not meant to be, someone I thought I was meant to be.

Less than two months into this year, and I want to make things right. My vision is not crystal clear as of this point, but I know now what path I'd like to take, and it's nowhere near similar to what I thought of in my early 20s.

I was wrong all along.

It was during the most unlikely time when you utter these words to me. We were already drunk from one too many shots, unaware of what would happen next. And yet, you remained clear to my eyes. 

At that moment, I was relishing how good of a company you were, unbothered by the people around us, while the speakers left no room for silence.

Your skin was cold, so I held your hand. But you leaned in to kiss me instead as if that press of your lips on mine would keep you warm. Nevertheless, I surrendered.

With you around, I simply find myself relinquishing all my willpower and just going where your high would take me.

Carefully and gently, but oh so intensely.

I tasted you once and, since then, I keep looking for you in all the places I go to.

A lot has changed in Makati's hippest bloc Poblacion since the onset of the pandemic. Many Poblacion favorites have succumbed to the challenges brought about by COVID-19, yes, but new concepts have started to open, ensuring the streets of Poblacion are more alive than ever.

One of the few new concepts in Makati's most interesting neighborhood is West 32, a Korean-American fusion restaurant located in the bustling area of Kalayaan Ave.

One of the main reasons you previously kept running through my head was your wisdom and how much of a conversationalist you are. You have a way with words and make me want for more. But sadly, you lack with intention.

There are many instances in life where we overthink how things would have turned out differently depending on how we wanted them. It would have been lovely to end this story of us the way I wanted it, but I guess I was the only one wanting it so bad.

Then someone so similar to you walked towards my direction. Suddenly, my stomach churned, my heartbeat fast, and my brain echos, "here you go again."

That's right. Here I go again.

But if "here I go again" means knowing a soul as beautiful as yours, then count me in. If "here I go again" means having the privilege to learn your perplexities, then sign me the fuck up.