You’re turning twenty four in a weeks time. God. 23 is a tough year for you, isn’t it? I know. I have seen and heard and felt your pains. Never ending rainstorms Kez? But it is no new to you, right? You’ve been there a couple of times, and so far, by grace, you made it. Your survival skills are something to be boast of Kez, your 23 year old self is a warrior.

You were so soft despite pains.

You were so hopeful despite nothingness.

You were so faithful despite the storms.

My Kezia, you were so brave and beautiful and gentle.

You were simply awesome. I don’t know if somebody would survive what you’ve been through this year of your life.

Keep going.

Keep going despite the quagmires and rough roads and detours.

You’ll get where you wanted to be. I swear.

I am proud of the woman you have become.

And Kez? God is so good with you all the time. Remember that when the going gets rough. I love you.

Sorry. Sorry if I just stand and stare while people mock your dreams and passions. Sorry if I allow them to invalidate your feelings. You’ve been tough and brave for the last years, and believe me, there are times when I can‘t fathom your strength. How can you be so strong and soft at the same time? The world has been bombarding you with rainstorms and detours and you always sank in the corner of the bathroom floor, busily tapping your back that everything will make sense. I am in awe of your wonder and faith. You’ve been through a lot of frustrations and disappointments. You’ve heard insults that made you wish you were someone else. I can’t even count how many times you smile when all you wanted to do was cry. I don’t know how many times you hug people and ask them if they’re okay even if you yourself is not okay.

How many times people and friends invalidate your feelings? Your dreams? Your ideas? And why did you let them? How many times you were treated below the belt when all you did was nothing but good intentions? Why do you think you are not whole if you are jot surrpunded by peers?

Self-love. Self-love is the answer to all those question marks. Please. Come back organized. And confident. And okay.

Love,

Self.

She rushed to the building, one hand holding the coffee and the other is carrying a huge bag of books authored by Lang Leav. Her breathing was rapid, her walking, brisk. Her dishevelled hair were all over her face and she tried to brush them off. Then it happened.

She bumped into him. He was also holding a paper cup. It was surely a coffee too. It took them a millisecond before they recognized each other. “Hey”, he said, the usual conversation starter. “Oh, Raf. ” Tick tock “have to go, bbye” she was so full of excitement on seeing Lang Leav on the 11th floor of the Makati building but as soon as the elevator opened, the known author went out, surrounded by security guards and one secretary.

Her shoulders dropped. She didn’t made it. She made a u-turn when he met her halfway “Look. They’re calling you back” she turned her head around and saw Lang Leav waving at her. Without hesitation, she ran and took the books out of the bag. “Madame, I’ve been waiting my whole life for you to personally sign it.” Before the author can reply, he interrupted “Xcuse me, can I take you two a picture” she hastily combed her hair with her fingers and her arms went around Lang Leavs waist. The author returned the gesture. He took two shots and said his thank you.

She bid goodbye to her favorite author, too dizzy for the ecstatic encounter, she almost forgot that she was sharing the same roof of the hotel with the guy who gave her her second heart break. The guy who is way out of his league. “Case! Would you like to grab some coffee nearby? Sige na, so I can send you the pictures na din. My treat.” She hesitated, but just like meeting him in OKC, it is a one-in-a-million chances to have coffee with him. She wouldn’t pass up the opportunity. “I. Would…. love too. Sure.” She gave him a fast, awkward smile. They walked toward the cafe and took a seat. He stood then asked, “what coffee do u usually drink?” she looked at the counter for a second, unable to see the menu on the flat screen tv, she said “Iced Americano will do”. “Would you like to add some espresso shot?” he asked again, which she replied, “One shot is fine. Thank you.” He went to the counter, and she took the opportunity to stare at his back.”Is this parallel universe?” Definitely, it is not. She is still the same awkward girl he met three years ago. The pimples may be gone, the hair blonde, and she got braces on her lower teeth, but still, awkward. And him, still the same perfect guy. Gentle, brilliant, and confident. A few minutes later, he came back carrying a tray of heaven. And by heaven, it means coffee and macaroons.

She bit her lip before she uttered her thanks. She grab the coffee and took a short sip, “saan dito ang work place mo?” she asked while smiled a little. “On the 18th floor”, he said while pointing out the building where they met. “So ‘heaven’ is near, huh?” He laughed. “Yes, this is where I usually stay during long breaks. I tasted all their coffee here na nga din. hahaha” She laughed a little and thought that he is still the same Rafael. Real good in steering conversations. “Where do you stay?” he asked, “Piaza Glorietta. I’ll be staying here for two weeks. We have a seminar kasi.” She replied completely because she knew that the next question would be “what are u here for?” they chat about the this and that. Are you still watching wrestling matches? Yes. She answered. But the truth is she's not that updated anymore. But she review the matched for two nights before flying to Manila, holding on to that little hope in her heart that they will meet here by chance. And she wanted to hug her inner intuition right now. He also asked what is she currently reading and before she can respond he laughed and said “Ah. Lang Leav.” They both laughed. She blushed a little because she remembered the Goodbye Letter in her blog. But he doesn’t seem to care. “He doesn’t even remember a single phrase for sure” she told herself. It sent relief on her mind, but deep in her heart, she felt a pang of sadness. She’s that nothing to him.

After almost an hour, he sent her the pictures. Oh how she wished he forgot it so she can have a chance to message him again on IG. But how can he forget? He was not preoccupied with her presence anyways. “Don’t look at me when I look at you” that lyrics of Reese Lansangan played on her head as he look at her and said “would you like to take a walk hangang sa condo mo?” he looked around. It is sunset hour and sheepishly grin at her. Okay, atleast he  remembered. She said to herself. It took her seconds before she nodded in agreement. Again, he smiled and lifted his hand in front of her. Confused, she looked at him. But he didn’t say a word. His hand was steady in front of her. Ah, the blog again! “In that universe, hold my hand while we stroll the city during sunset hours” This time, she smiled genuinely at him and shook her head. He smiled ruefully, amusement is playing in his eyes. “What?” she said, laughing. This time his hand  was inches away from her face. She will never let this chance slip away. This may not be the “universe” she wanted but this is another magic. You’ll get hurt later. Her ego said. “Naah, I don’t mind. I’d rather fall and be hurt than regret it my whole life.” She placed her hand on his and together, silently, they walked. The warmth of the sun rays and its lighting effect added to the magic of that hour…… She will never forget this.

"via @agastopia

And after all

these years,

even after all

the heartaches,

seeing you again

made me

remember that

my love for you

will always flow

like a river,

I couldn’t

pull it back.

I couldn’t

make it stop.

— ma.c.a // It will never go away

*I Was Made for Loving You plays in the background*

It’s 2 in the morning and I’m drafting this letter while taking large gulp of coffee. May you be patient because this is written by a caffeine-addled brain with a little sick heart.

You are supposed to be just another guy I randomly talked to that summer night. You were supposed to go away the day after that night, for us to never speak again. But we created this little world in a chatbox. You just had everything I ever wanted in a person. A conversation with you felt like it would last forever. Talking to you made me want to slow time down. Or it’ll freeze 10:25 pm so I won’t be able to send you to bed at 11. You had this amazing way of making simple sentences sound like the most beautiful prose. I always look forward talking to you since day one. I can’t tell you  how many times I would curl up in bed at night since I realized that you will never be just a friend to me. The more we talked, the more my feelings grew. Knowing that you will never consider me as more than a friend, hurts, but the most painful part is knowing the fact that I will never be enough for you. I always find myself lost in thoughts of you. Do you know how exhausting it is to overthink the simplest of things? Like, I am itching to beep you up but your response was short so I concluded that you’re not in the mood to entertain a potato :) I hope you will never know that feeling. The feeling where you are to investigate the simple “hi” like a CIA and be depressed the whole day because you feel extremely worthless.

How come you love wrestling? How can you be a book-lover? How can you be a caffeine-addict guy? Why do you love notebooks and journals and diaries and why do you love long strolls? Why are gummy worms your favourite snack and why do you write so well? Because I love those things too. Because I am hurt. Because I can see no reason not to like you except that pang of “you’re too good for me” statement. How did you turned out to be my little piece of home after a week of knowing you? It drives me crazy thinking why do we have to meet if we’re not meant to stay for too long? Why do I have to know another precious passerby who will leave in no time? But you know what, if I could go back and changed it all, I wouldn’t. I would still reply to your cute message on OKC. Our conversations are like a page in my favourite book I keep on reading when you’re offline. Or maybe long after you’re gone. I’ll continue reading it. The rush of adrenaline when I learned you’re into wrestling. The excitement when you told me you had one study on John Green. I will keep on reliving them. It might have been meaningless to you, but the time you wasted on me really made me glow. I dream of the day where I don’t get butterflies in my stomach whenever I see a message notification on my Instagram account. It might even take me to deactivate the account so I can get use to it. I will continue the same routine I had before I met you, I don’t want to be held down by what will never be.

Thinking about that night, I want to believe Paulo Coehlo. That the universe conspired for us to meet. That night, it felt like I turned you into reality. Or was it me who you pulled into a midsummer’s night dream? But the odds are not stacked in my favor. Well, if you’re a 4, you shouldn’t expect to date a 10. Lol. That’s just common knowledge. I should have remembered this line before falling in love with you. Again, lol.

You were my diary, I am now used to tell you everything that happens in a day- in my day. Now. I will have to go back to paper and pen and boring blogging again :)

You’re bigger than life and the world is already at the end of your fingertips. One day, you’ll get tired of these Wrestlemania matches and books and you’ll realize that I will never be worth of your time. You’ll wake up busy and fueled and just leave me staring at my IG for hours waiting for you to respond. I had to be the first to let go. You’ll leave anyways. So why do I have to keep this longer and be hurt twice as much? I think I am starting to feel things toward you but where will that feeling take me? It’s like jumping off the cliff even if I didn’t know how to swim. :D

So this is me saying goodbye to you. Please forgive me for all the times my anxiety and paranoia got in the way of our friendship. Someday, when I am old and dwindled, I will realize that you are the most beautiful regret I ever had. You will always be my biggest “what if”. I just want to tell you how grateful I am because somehow, some astral collision made me cross path with someone as brilliant and awesome as you. Literally. You are too good to be true for me. I wish I could just stop worrying about leagues and Richter scales and other stupid ways I subject to being measured to some invisible standard. But that would be very unfair on your part.You deserve more.

I wish I could be the kind of girl that is a perfect “match” for you. A girl you can be proud of. A girl you can show off to your family and friends. But I can never be that girl. Just like what Haymitch said to Katniss in Hunger Games, “you can live a hundred lifetimes and not deserve him, you know?.” I think of you and that line keeps on popping in my head. I can never be a “match” for you.

But I will be the girl who will reserve one spot in her heart. I will be the girl who will stare at the night sky and sigh and wish that you are happy wherever you are, that the universe is helping you achieve your dreams. That wrestling makes your heart thumps louder with life. That you are with someone who deserves all the love you have in your heart. I will be the girl who will see light rays of sunrises and sunsets and look at my camera and whisper, “The lighting’s good here.” I will be the girl who will stare at my private blog at night and see ad promotions and the coffee sits still on my study table and I’ll think “Are you getting enough sleep?” I will be the girl who will watch wrestling and mumbles “This match is amazing. Are you also watching?” I will be the girl who see anything red and I will wonder you’re wearing that neat jacket you bought online. I will have some long strolls too here in the city and I will randomly smile because I remember you. I will eat gummy worms and allow myself to do a lopsided smile bc I am eating your fave snack :)You made every single Taylor Swift song become the most relatable thing and eventually, my anthems :)

Please know that I am very very very happy that you know I exist. Us two, are parallel lines, meant to meet, but not meant to be.

But if parallel universe exists, I would love to meet you there. Again. Maybe in that universe, I am the girl for you. Maybe I can be your female version. Maybe I can compete with other girls who saw you the way I do. In that universe, I will try my damnedest to be the girl worthy of your time and effort. In that universe, I promise I won’t send you to sleep at 11 if you don t feel like sleeping. We’ll talk about your favorite songs and artists and I’ll tell you how I cried real hard when Rue died in the arena (book-based, not movie :))) In that universe, let us watch wrestling matches together via Messenger. I won’t tell you to just beep me up when you’re free. I will bug you every now and then at work. Have you eaten your lunch? When will you be home? Send me your pauwi selfie.

If. If parallel universe exists, I will love you without hesitations and questions and confusions. Or if it really exist, I will love you DESPITE hesitations and questions and confusions. I will tear down all the walls and I will stay. Really stay. For good. If parallel universe exists, hold my hand when we stroll the city during sunset hours. Tell me how you make your coffee so I can do it for you. Bring me to the gym so I can make sure your sweat don’t get in the way with your health. In that universe, I’ll take you with me to buy the complete set of Lang Leav’s books and together, let’s read it on your free time while we drink our coffee. I will laugh because you will wear a smug face while murmuring, “Geez, these works are corny” but you will finish it anyway :) Raf. In that universe, tell me about your John Greeen study. I would really love to hear it :) In that universe, I will tell you what my real name is and I will grin while you guess how to pronounce it :D

But not in this world. In this world, we have to wake up in different cities with different goals. You, molding your dreams into existence. And me, back to mundane stuffs. In this universe, I am the insecure girl who over-analyzes things and worries about every worst possible scenarios in life. If we continue this, I might become a toxic to you. I have wanted to reach for you but every time I am about to hold you in my mind, I am stilled by the idea of worthier hands. I guess, this what John Mayer, Adele, Pablo Neruda and every broken heart speaks about.

Youou are the best summer that ever happened in my life. I will never forget you. As much as I want to be friends with you, I can’t be that masochistic to myself.I don’t know how to unloved you. :) You will be my most beautiful what if.

’til then,

K.N

Not being where you want to be in life has to become motivation to get where you want to be. Otherwise you’ll start drowning in self doubt and self pity, and settle for the life you’ve got instead of moving towards the life you want.

—  Excerpt from the book I’ll never write // I’m having a before birthday life crisis