To the guy I liked since twenty sixteen. Twenty sixteen is the year we matched on Tinder. I can’t anymore remember the exact month and day as I lost my first neon orange pink Huawei mobile phone under the sea while swimming near one energy power plant (Bataan Power Plant if I remember it correctly) with my officemates at the Office of the President of the Philippines Film Development Council of the Philippines. Every guy that we were with helped me looked for it; even one of our Executive Directors. It was never retrievable. All of my stories for my future films were there. But of course. You don’t remember that. You don’t remember that it’s been years since we first swiped right on each other. But you did remember that we swiped right on each other and you lost a bet that we will use WhatsApp as means of communicating versus Telegram. But I don’t remember that we had that bet or what the bet was. But I remember that you don’t want to use WhatsApp as you don’t have anyone you know who is using it.
To the guy I liked since twenty sixteen, we talked all day and night. We can also go on for hours of not talking. Just knowing that we’re online. Talking to you felt so easy, light, peaceful. I can be my whole true self as you are to me as you say… I waited for you to say that you also feel more… But then you mentioned your ex… But then you mentioned that you were scared. That you’re scared as she drives you crazy and she hurts you even if you no longer are together both mentally and physically. So I packed up my feelings and hopes of a romance and become your friend. You needed a friend than a lover. I forced myself to forget my feelings for you. I told you then that you are my “Best Friend Forever”. My BFF as you know me so well even if I don’t talk. You know the right things to say whenever. You can make me smile. You can make me laugh. You can make me feel warm. You can make me feel touched. You made me feel that I’m not alone and I can be silly.
To the guy I liked since twenty sixteen, you made me feel like a human being with feelings and can be someone more. But you’re the one who is not feeling all that fuzziness. You gave so much to me even if you were not okay. You shared to me that your ex who is really older than you and me both. You shared your ex was abusive. You shared your ex hurts you physically. You shared your ex hurts you mentally and harasses you at home and in your workplace with your students and workmates. You shared your ex made you want to close your eyes and never wake up. You shared your life is a living hell. I tried my best to make you smile. To make you laugh. To make you feel safe and warm even if I’m in the Philippines and you are where you are. I let you do your own thing as to how to handle it. I let you rant endlessly. I let you feel and go through the process of hurt. I let you have my ears. I let you feel numb. But when you want it to end by having suicidal thoughts, I didn’t let you be. I let you “see” that your life is precious and great looking as you are.
To the guy I liked since twenty sixteen, I liked you because you are nice, kind, gentle, real, genuine, funny, silly, stupid, crazy.
To the guy I liked since twenty sixteen, we both admitted that we liked each other then, at the very same moment. But you always leave. I was waiting for you. You always kept me waiting.
To the guy I liked since twenty sixteen, I liked you because you made me see that you are scared. But then when we became a couple, your fears made it so hard to penetrate inside you that you can’t even care to absorb that you’re hurting me.
To the guy I liked since twenty sixteen, I liked you because you made me feel secure about myself within; that it happens to show even on the outside.
To the guy I liked since twenty sixteen, you always knew what I feel but you always dismiss it when we became a couple.
To the guy I liked since twenty sixteen, you said you liked me because I was honest. When we became a couple, you said you hated it.
To the guy I liked since twenty sixteen, I wanted to be open with you so we wouldn’t have unnecessary arguments and I want you to hear it from me than from what your mind or others might tell you.
To the guy I liked since twenty sixteen, your mind is a black hole. When we were hiding our feelings with each other, I can see right through you. Now, I can’t anymore.
To the guy I liked since twenty sixteen, its actually strikingly odd that I know what you are thinking, feeling, needing and wanting even if I’m here in the Philippines and you’re there. Even if you don’t tell me. I know. Even if you always tell me I don’t know you.
To the guy I liked since twenty sixteen, I don’t like guys (romantically speaking) who doesn’t know what they want and are not that confident in everything. At least in one, he must be confident about it but not to the extent of extensive cockiness. But I liked you.
To the guy I liked since twenty sixteen, you are “too white” for my liking and you’re not my dream guy; physically speaking. But I liked you.
To the guy I liked since twenty sixteen, I have sweaty palms whenever I feel certain emotions and when my body is in a certain temperature but I always wanted to hold and touch you.
To the guy I liked since twenty sixteen, I actually had that moments wherein I actually don’t know any more if I should stay with you. But chose to stay.
To the guy I liked since twenty sixteen, I really have a love hate relationship with a cold atmosphere but I’ll be happy to be with you in a 24/7 winter up north.
To the guy I liked since twenty sixteen, it’s strikingly odd that when we were best friends, you can easily pick up if I’m flirting; when we became a couple, you can’t even tell it anymore.
To the guy I liked since twenty sixteen, I actually had imagined you coming to the Philippines.
To the guy I liked since twenty sixteen, you are the first guy (romantically speaking) that actually cared to meet my family and cared enough what to bring and what you’ll do to respect them.
To the guy I liked since twenty sixteen, you’re the first guy (romantically speaking) that liked the same amount of spices that I like. You’re the first guy that liked the same exact dishes that I like and how it is actually prepared and cooked.
To the guy I liked since twenty sixteen, I actually thought what if you became my forever.
To the guy I liked since twenty sixteen, I actually tried to find ways to come to your country.
To the guy I liked since twenty sixteen, when I actually found a way (thanks to your country’s consulate), but then got waaay too scared and pressured by what your government dictates what you must do and what I must do.
To the guy I liked since twenty sixteen, I actually had that moment wherein I actually felt legit scared if I tag my family along to your country; your stories made me extra scared.
To the guy I liked since twenty sixteen, I want to settle in a place where aside from growth there is love and empathy that surrounds “our future”.
To the guy I liked since twenty sixteen, I actually wanted to meet your family and best guy friend.
To the guy I liked since twenty sixteen, it still actually hurts that you lied to me about you not talking to your female childhood best friend; in which I don’t understand why you did that when it was not even my concern in terms of jealousy; I just let you talk and yet…
To the guy I liked since twenty sixteen, I still feel jealous and uneasy that you actually thought of marrying that ex of yours. No matter what you tell me. Even if you tell me it was forced. You did have that moment with someone and yet with me, you feel all these fears that even if I give out solutions and answers you still can’t manage to move your ass to just even try.
To the guy I liked since twenty sixteen, it hurts me even to this day that you mentioned that you don’t have an energy to just talk to me about stuff.
You know why I stood up and informed you that I want you to be my boyfriend? Because you got sick. You got infected with COVID-19. I got scared of really losing you for good. Learning that you got the Level two of the first hit of COVID-19 already made me lose it.
You know why I broke up with you? Because you don’t love yourself. I want you to love yourself so much. You know why I broke up with you? Because you overthink things too much that you can’t relax and being with me scares the shit out of you. All I wanted is for you to relax. Whenever you are overthinking, you forget that I’m here with you. You got so drowned with all of your fears that I’m not anymore important. But as I informed you, I’ll be waiting.
You know why I talk to some of my past lovers? Because they are the only ones I can talk about you without judgement. Without judging me. Without judging us. One of them makes me go back and love the guys in my life a little bit more. He keeps me afloat whenever I get my heart broken and feel that I no longer want to love; whenever I don’t want to try and find the guy for me. When I got so hurt by your insults; I turned to him as I know my female friend already dislikes you that much and I can’t penetrate. She too can’t see that I’m hurting whenever she tells me things about you that I know isn’t true. All of the past lovers that you get so uneasy and scared for; they were my breathing space whenever you blocked me off whenever you go crazy and I need someone to talk to. They give me advises as to how I can penetrate in your mind whenever you insult and push me away. When you had a crazy fit about it; even if I was so hurt by you emotionally; I stopped talking to any guy you feel crazy at. All of the pains were kept inside me.
You know ever since you said “good bye” for the last time, I bombarded your Telegram account with all of the things I wanted to say to you at that given moment. I know your account in that app is dormant. I’m not sure if you uninstalled that app or not but it doesn’t matter. As I just want to say and share all of those thoughts and feelings towards you.
You still do affect me. And I don’t know how to move on or if I really want to move on from you. I don’t know if I can actually keep my word. Because when it comes to you, all of my words are like empty nonsense. It’s not existent.
I… don’t… know… what… to… do… or… if… I… want… to… do… anything…
Why am I giving all these specific information, for people to read even when I’m no longer alive in the near future? Because just like filmmaking, you are the guy that made my heart sooo truly engaged, happy and at peace. But will only wish, hope and pray from a far. That once I already have but lost. And that I must move forward with just a tiny piece of fragment memory that any time soon, I will unknowingly forget. But then I still have my storytelling aspect intact no matter what medium I’m using… But then maybe… I’ll find another medium to find “you” in another chapter of my life… Maybe that “you” is in a form of another individual that I “see” you in him… They can only know this story. But never your name. You are the “LOVER” album of my Tay Tay heart.
Aaand… writing is one of my ways of coping with life. It’s vital for me express myself, so I can still remain positive, light and see the good in the bad and make something good out of the bad things in my life or just simply expressing myself at times.
For my future self, you’ll find this in one of your saved stories in cloud. If you happen to not remember this or remember this person that your “twenty twenty one self” is writing about then don’t worry. Just enjoy the story that you’ve written about back when you fell for your online best friends forever that no longer see your relevance today. Don’t be sad. If you are sad because you can’t remember, then don’t worry. It’s fine. Just one of your life’s You Only Live Once breathing life dares. If your sad because you can remember the pain or you feel the pain while reading it, don’t worry. Just go with it. You’re human. You are allowed to feel things. Don’t suppress it. If you are sad because you didn’t end up with him, don’t worry. Life is like that. At least you had someone like him that came in to your life. You truly lived your life. If you happen to end up together but then couldn’t remember this aspect, then this twenty twenty one present self wants you to hug him tightly and show this to him. Tell him, you really did write something about him. The Taylor Swift evermore album vibe. No diss. Just pure “willow” vibe and a “betty” hopeful heart. Oh and if you are wondering, your twenty twenty one self is not drinking any alcoholic beverage. Just a heavy load of brown coffee (two shots of black coffee + two bops of natural raw honey + one tablespoon of creamer) and trying to be a “gold rush” with this silence.
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