Looking back.

And on the 28th of December 2016,  the silver anniversary of my high school happened.

It was more than a celebration of reminiscing the old days,  of remembering who were the class clown, the class nerd,  the geek,  the beauty queen.  It was recollecting how we survived and triumphed every subject, project, class presentation and even the CAT.  And how we were the pasaway (naughty) batch.  We were smiling and shaking our heads off while we are at it.

It was a good day to remember that where we are now were greatly because of high school,  of our teachers, of friends ( and even  enemies then) of the values we learned and now lived.  We are proud of each doctor,  accountant, engineer, teacher, nurse, farmer, entrepreneur amongst us.  We are blessed of our batch priest too.

And those we lost.  We remembered them  and didn’t forget.

That was a long time looking back.  But it gives you a sense of pride and happiness that in some way each of us survived and made it.

Maybe it’s true love.

It found its way on a cold December night. Conversation was light and simple.  Friends are slowly easing their way out to catch a free concert at the plaza.  I stayed comfortably seated on the sofa.

Conversations with her was light.  We talked of how spending the holidays at a foreign land gives a different meaning of being away,  of being lonely.

My phone buzzed.

I asked how she’s coping and if it eased up after spending five years away from home.  She smiled and said that friends acting as families helps.  She added that skype and whatsApp too. She smiled.

I pressed cancel on my phone when it started to ring.

I smiled and in that instant I know I want to kiss her.  And I did.

My phone started buzzing again.

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Above was the beginning of their love story.  Maybe I am biased since I was at the other end.

I was the person calling him.  Disturbing him at that exact moment when he decided that ours was not worthy to be kept.  He kissed her while we are together.

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Being cheated was the worst.  Being devastated didn’t come close.  It was death while trying to live.

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Forward to today.  I learned that they are happy.  A baby is added.

There was a twinge.  I breathed out so that I can breathe normally.  I remembered it again.  The pain.  And how I survived.

And then came the wish I had for him.  That if not me, then I hope she is.  His true love.

 

 

 

 

Maybe right, maybe not.

My heart is ripped every breath I take. If this is what it takes to hold on to the one decision I made 72 hours to go, then so be it. It is hurting me now, it must be hurting him too and yet we have to do what is right. For everyone. For him. But most especially for me.

I backslid after. I sent messages. I called. He never replied or picked up the phone. I guess he started what I asked him to do. Not to call me. Not to see me again.

I drowned it with some bottles too. Even if it’s bad for me. Just to get numb.

It maybe right, maybe not. But I made it already. I can’t retract.

They say a decision is right when you’re at peace after. I am not. So did I made a bad one?

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