*Be happy there, even though you're not with Inda.


The last time we really talked, I hated you.
You were the first to make me cry. And you could've chosen a better time.
Manila then was devastated by typhoon Milenyo. We had no electricity for days, and no network coverage at that. But how could you have known the extent of Milenyo's damage? You were in Cebu. I couldn't contact you.

And that was your excuse.
Three days without communication, and you found out that you didn't love me anymore.
But I knew, that Inda was the reason. She had always been there, though I seldom acknowledged her role in our relationship. From the very first time we talked, she was there.

"I like you. You're like my bestfriend," you said to me. And I took that as a compliment. I should've known better.

She was a presence I never grew accustomed to. But she was your closest friend, your bestfriend, and I couldn't change that.

But you did.
You became more than friends, and suddenly I wasn't your princess.
Maybe, I never was.

That was three years ago.
Exactly three years ago today.

For all its worth, I have the fondest memories of you. Even your betrayal, on hindsight is something, sweet. Sorry, I'm such a sucker for underdog stories. And a part of me loves misery, even when it's my own. And I did love you. It took me almost two years to get over you properly. By properly, I mean eradicating every single crumb of bitterness, every single morsel of hate that I had for you. And I did, after sometime.

We were friends before we became something more, but we were never able to go back to that friendship after we broke up. We were civil enough, but not enough to be what we used to be. But because of you, I became something else.

For some time, I tried to be kind. And I showed that I cared for you, even when inside, every nerve of my body screamed murder. I thought, maybe if you saw how kind I was, how indescribably forgiving I was, you'd have second thoughts and come back to me. Then I'll be the one to turn you down. You never gave me that chance. Good for both of us.

Because of you, I suddenly became a fan of moving on songs. I can't listen to Nina's (can you imagine? I liked Nina that time!) Someday, or Beyonce's Irreplacable without smiling. How those songs made me strong. They articulated the pains and the hopes I had inside. And now they're good memories.

Last night, you were online. At least your YM account was. And for some inexplicable reason, I sent you an instant message. We haven't talked since my birthday, when you greeted me and joked that you'd give me friendship as a gift if I'd give you forgiveness on your birthday. I remember how I laughed at that. You'd be twenty-two on Sunday. Is there an express delivery service to heaven? I'd like to send you my gift, and ask for your forgiveness.

If only I knew...

She was using your account. For about fifteen minutes or so, I chatted with her, thinking it was you. I didn't mention any names, just went to the perfunctory kumustahan. I was clueless. until I asked you about your relationship with Inda. And suddenly, your reply was weird. Because that I wasn't you I was chatting with. It was Inda.

"Hindi mo ba alam?" she asked me.

Know what? I asked her if you're still together, and she said, she wished you were. And that bothered me.

"Robs, John was killed nung March pa. Hindi ba nasabi sa'yo ni Chik?"

God. Six months ago? How could I have not known? How could that happen to you? Why?

Inda said you were supposed to get married in December. And I hurt for her. You just got engaged days before you were killed. Life had been so unfair to you.

Inda said that you were robbed in your apartment. You were alone there. I knew you decided to leave your house because you had issues with your family for the longest time. They took your cellphones and some cash. Why couldn't they just let it at that? Why?

They strangled you, and made it look like you took your own life. I knew you're out there, laughing at the sheer stupidity of their attempt. You were like that. Laughing at stupid things. Doing stupid things that we'd both laugh at.

Suddenly, I miss you so.

I know you'd never contemplate suicide. You have everything you want. You have Inda, and I knew that she was the only one you wanted most. The only one you loved so much.

We cried while talking about you. She told me how much she misses you. And I cried harder. I told you, I'm a sucker for misery. What you had was something good. So good that I'm ashamed that I ever held a grudge against it. Now, I understand. We can never have what you had with her, because I'm not her, just someone who reminded you of her. She was you every single breath. She was every ray of sunlight that touched your life. She was the greates thing that ever happened to you. And you loved her so.

Life had been so unfair to both of you.

So now, I'm talking (I know, I know, I'm blogging. I know you'd correct me if you're reading this) about you, and you're still making me cry.
Why are you so good at this? But I don't hate you anymore. Maybe, I never did. Or maybe that's just the me that regrets having lost you. But one thing I'm sure of, I loved you. You were one of my happiest yet most painful memory. I loved you, and I'll always have good thoughts of you.

And I know you'll like it when I tell you that Inda and I are friends now. Or more accurately, we're okay. We apparently had things in common. Both of us loved you, and she still does.

I lost you twice, and it hurt.
She lost you forever, but she won't lose your love. I know that it is something that even death cannot conquer.

Sail away, John. We will miss you, but will never forget you.