Dear Jhi,

That day, I was trying to help you with trucks.

I sent one over so you could loot it, thinking I was doing you a favor.

Except I wasn’t paying attention.

You had already reached your limit.

You even told me you were done, but somehow I still managed to send you another truck. 😂

Then the reset came.

Suddenly, you could attack my trucks instead.

And of course, I had to insist.

I kept pushing you to do it. I also needed to make sure you used my truck.

That’s when you said:

“Ok baby niks. Thank you sa trucks.” 🥰😘🥰

And somewhere in between all my demands and your patience, I realized how funny we were.

I wasn’t paying attention.

You were already done.

I still sent the truck.

Then after the reset, I was the one demanding that you attack it.

And you just went along with me.

Maybe that’s one of the things I like about us.

Even when I’m being makademand, you don’t make it a big deal.

You just laugh, play along, and call me baby niks.

Love,
Nikka

Dear Jhi,

There are some conversations that start so casually that you don’t realize you’re slowly being let into someone’s life.

That morning, I simply sent you photos from my jog.

“Nagjogging uli. Sakit uli katawan.”

Nothing special. Just me sharing a little piece of my day.

Then the next morning, you greeted me.

“Good morning!”

You even looked at the photos and said, “nice ganda ng view sa inyo talaga..” ❤️

And somehow, from that simple conversation, we ended up talking about your mom.

I asked how she was because I knew she had been in the hospital. You told me she was already out, and that you were going back to Manila soon. You said you were relieved because your mom could finally stay with you there.

Then you started telling me about your family.

About how you didn’t want to leave your mom alone in Gensan.

About your business.

About the crops.

About developers.

And then, somewhere in the middle of all those stories, I realized something.

You were an only child.

And then I finally understood.

You really are an only child.

It was everything that came after.

And suddenly, being an only child sounded very different.

It’s not just being the only kid.

It’s being the one person your mom looks to.

The one who eventually has to make decisions.

The one who carries the business.

The one who has to think about what happens to the land.

The one who worries about his mother.

The one who feels like he can’t simply walk away because there’s no one else who can take his place.

And I think that’s why you were so emotional when you talked about it.

You told me how your mom said you’d be the one to make the decisions.

And then you told me you hugged her and cried.

That part stayed with me.

Because underneath all the jokes, the teasing, the “ulyanin ka na” and “kakakape mo yan,” I got to see a different side of you.

The son who worries about his mother.

The son who wants to take care of her.

The son who feels responsible for the things his parents built.

And maybe that’s something I wouldn’t have known if I hadn’t asked that simple question about your mom.

Funny how that happens.

Sometimes, you think you’re just asking “Okay na ba mama mo?”

And suddenly, you learn about someone’s childhood, their parents, their family, their responsibilities, their future…

and even the fact that they’re an only child. 😂

Then, after all that serious conversation, you went right back to teasing me.

“Ulyanin ka na po.”

And eventually, we were talking about trucks again.

Because of course we were.

But I think I’ll remember that conversation.

Not because you finally corrected my very wrong “five siblings” memory.

But because that was the day I learned a little more about the life behind the person I’ve been talking to.

And maybe that’s what I liked about that conversation.

You didn’t just answer my question.

You let me in.

Even if it was just a little.

Always, Nikka

Dear Jhi,

There was something I learned about you that day that I didn’t expect.

We were talking about your mom, and you told me that you were there with her in Gensan because you couldn’t bear to leave her alone.

You said that when you eventually went back to Manila, you were thinking of bringing her with you so you could keep an eye on her.

Then our conversation somehow turned to your family.

I asked about your siblings.

Because apparently, I had somehow remembered you telling me that you had four siblings.

So when I said something about your four siblings, you laughed.

“Ala san mo napulot yan..”

And then you had to explain again.

“sabi ko 5 magkakapatid sila mama.. tas may kanyang kanyang pamilya na sila..”

Oh.

Your mom had four siblings.

Not you. 😂

And that’s when I learned it.

You were an only child.

I honestly didn’t expect that.

Maybe because I had always imagined you having brothers or sisters around you, someone you could share the weight with when things became difficult.

But you didn’t.

It was just you and your mom.

You even told me that you sometimes wished you had a sibling to share your problems with.

That stayed with me.

Because suddenly, I understood a little more about why you were so worried about her.

Why you felt that responsibility so deeply.

Why leaving her alone wasn’t even something you could easily consider.

You weren’t just her son.

You were the person beside her.

And when you said that you didn’t know what you would do if you lost her, I understood that your fear wasn’t only about losing your mother.

It was also about losing the one person who had always been there with you.

I remember telling you that it must be difficult to be alone, especially in a situation like that.

And you simply said that was why you were putting in double the effort, working and trying to build your business.

You were carrying more than I realized.

That day, I didn’t just learn that you were an only child.

I learned another side of you.

The side that worries.

The side that carries responsibility quietly.

The side that wants to be strong because there isn’t another sibling beside you to share the burden.

And maybe that’s why, when you told me about your mom, I stopped thinking about what I wanted from you.

I just wanted you to have someone beside you too.

Even if, for that moment, all I could do was listen.

Love,
Nikka

Dear Jhi,

August 23 was my birthday.

And I was waiting for your greeting.

I kept hoping that somewhere in the day, you would remember and send me a simple Happy Birthday.

But the day kept passing.

And there was nothing.

So eventually, I sent my own message.

“Happy birthday to me.” 🥳

I think that was my quiet way of admitting that I had been waiting for you.

Then you replied.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY 🥳🥳🥳”

And right after that, you explained why you hadn’t been there for my special day.

“Pasensya, I’m not in your special day po. Need ako ng mother ko po.”

And suddenly, I understood again.

You weren’t somewhere having fun and simply forgetting about me.

You were with your mom.

You were needed there.

I told you I was just at home and hadn’t gone anywhere because I didn’t feel like leaving the house.

Then I asked your mom.

You told me she was okay for now, but she had been experiencing pain in her back and hip.

And when you explained that you were staying because you needed to be there for her, I understood why my birthday had to come second.

Still, Jhi, I won’t lie.

A small part of me was hurt.

Because I wanted to hear those words from you without having to send “Happy birthday to me” first.

I wanted to wake up and see your greeting waiting for me.

I wanted to feel remembered.

But when you finally replied and told me what was happening, the hurt became much smaller than the worry I felt for you and your mom.

So on my birthday, I didn’t really need a surprise anymore.

I just needed to know that you were okay.

And now I understand why you couldn’t be there the way I had hoped.

You were where you needed to be.

With your mother.

And maybe that’s something I need to remember whenever I feel hurt by your silence.

Sometimes, it isn’t because I don’t matter.

Sometimes, someone you love simply needs you more at that moment.

Still, I have to admit.

I smiled when your greeting finally came.

Even if I had to greet myself first. 😂

Happy Birthday to me, indeed.

Love,
Nikka

Dear Jhi,

August 23 is my birthday.

And for days before that, I had been trying to figure out what I should do.

Should I go to Baguio on my own?

Or should I come to Manila and spend my birthday with you?

I kept asking if you would have free time because, honestly, I wanted to see you.

I wanted to spend my birthday with you.

But I was also scared of making plans around you when I didn’t even know if you would be available.

Then I started wondering why you weren’t answering me.

I didn’t know that something was happening on your side.

Then you finally told me.

“Sorry nasa Gensan ako. Nasa hospital kasi ang mother ko. Kaya hindi ako nakakapagreply baka magalit ka sa akin.”

And suddenly, I understood.

You weren’t ignoring my questions.

You weren’t avoiding me.

You were in Gensan.

You were at the hospital with your mother.

While I was worrying about my birthday plans and wondering if you had time for me, you were dealing with something much heavier.

Then you told me,

“Sorry sa lahat. Unahin ko muna ang mama ko po. Bago ang lahat. Kami na lang dalawa nagdadamayan sa laban sa buhay. Pag nawala siya hindi ko alam ang gagawin ko.”

That was the moment everything changed for me.

Because suddenly, my birthday wasn’t the important thing anymore.

Not Manila. Not Baguio.

Not whether we would get to spend the day together.

Your mom was sick. And you were scared.

You were facing something you couldn’t simply put aside to answer my questions.

I remember telling you that I understood.

“Unahin mo muna mom mo. Thanks for letting me know. Andito lang ako. I’m praying for her recovery.”

And I meant it.

I think I had been so focused on wondering whether you would have time for me that I forgot there might be something happening in your life that I couldn’t see.

Now I understand why you kept saying the two of you were just holding on and fighting through it together.

I’m sorry, Jhi.

I wish I had known sooner.

If I had known, I wouldn’t have kept wondering why you weren’t answering.

I wouldn’t have worried about whether you wanted to spend my birthday with me.

I would have simply told you to stay with your mom.

Because sometimes, the person we are waiting for is not choosing to be distant.

Sometimes, they’re simply trying to be strong for someone they love.

And that was you.

On the days I was wondering where you were, you were in Gensan, beside your mother.

So yes, August 23 is my birthday.

But after learning what was happening, the only thing I really wanted was for your mom to get better.

And for you to be okay too.

Love,
Nikka

Dear Jhi,

I was trying to figure out what to do with my birthday.

I told you I couldn’t decide whether I should just go to Baguio or come to you in Manila.

I wanted to spend my birthday with you.

But at the same time, I didn’t know if you would actually have free time.

And I didn’t want to travel all the way there only to find out you were busy.

I think that was what made the decision so difficult.

I wanted you there.

I just didn’t know if there was room for me in your schedule.

Then August 20 came.

You greeted me good morning with those sweet little emojis, and somehow, it made the day feel a little warmer. 🥰

I asked if you had seen my message from the day before.

You said,

“yha! i read it po. il check my sched po.”

It was a simple answer.

But I held onto it.

Because at least you were going to check.

At least you were considering it.

And for me, that meant something.

So I told you,

“Take your time po. Pero sana may free time ka.”

I didn’t want to pressure you.

I just wanted a little time with you.

That was really all I was asking for.

By the next day, though, I was already teasing you about how long it was taking you to check your schedule.

I said it jokingly.

But maybe there was a tiny bit of truth behind the joke.

Because when you want to see someone, you start wondering if they want to see you too.

And when you are waiting for someone to make time for you, even a simple schedule check can start feeling like a big deal.

I didn’t need anything extravagant for my birthday.

I just wanted to know if you could make a little space for me.

And maybe that was why I kept waiting for your answer.

Because somewhere between Manila and Baguio, I wasn’t really choosing a place.

I was hoping you would choose me.

Love,
Nikka

Dear Jhi,

I think what made my birthday feel different this year wasn’t really the birthday itself.

It was the fact that, somewhere in the middle of planning it, I started thinking about you.

I had been trying to figure out what I wanted to do. I had plans in my head, places I wanted to go, things I wanted to experience. And somehow, you became part of those plans without me even realizing it.

I started wondering…

What if I went to Manila?

What if I spent my birthday with you?

The thought was exciting, but at the same time, I hesitated.

Because I didn’t know if you would actually have the time.

I know you have your own life, your own responsibilities, your work, your family. I know you’re not someone who can simply drop everything whenever I want you to. And honestly, I didn’t want to plan my birthday around you only to find out that you wouldn’t have any free time.

So there was another option.

Baguio.

I could just go by myself.

I could make my own plans, enjoy my birthday, take pictures, wander around, and not have to worry about whether someone would be available to spend it with me.

It would be easier that way.

Sa totoo lang, maybe that was the safer choice.

But then there was still this little part of me wondering what it would feel like if I chose Manila instead.

If I chose you.

After our phone call, I finally asked what you thought.

Not because I wanted you to decide my birthday for me.

I think I just wanted to know what was going through your mind when you imagined me coming to Manila.

Would you want me there?

Would you actually make time for me?

Would we get to spend my birthday together?

Or would I end up there while you were busy with everything else?

Those were the things I couldn’t really ask without feeling a little vulnerable.

Because asking you what you thought wasn’t really just about choosing between Manila and Baguio.

It was me quietly asking,

“If I choose to spend my birthday near you, would you choose to spend some of it with me?”

And maybe that’s why I was nervous about asking.

Because sometimes the answer to a simple question can tell you more than you expected.

I don’t know yet what will happen.

I don’t know if I’ll end up in Manila or Baguio.

I don’t know how much free time you’ll have.

I don’t even know what my birthday will look like.

But I know one thing.

The fact that I even considered changing my birthday plans because of you means something.

A few months ago, I wouldn’t have imagined that someone I met through a game would eventually become someone I would want beside me on my birthday.

Someone whose schedule I’d wonder about.

Someone whose opinion I’d actually ask for.

Someone I’d think about when deciding where I wanted to be on a day that was supposed to be all about me.

Maybe that’s the funny thing about getting close to someone.

They slowly become part of your plans without asking to be.

And suddenly, a birthday isn’t just about where you want to go.

It’s also about who you secretly hope will be there.

Always,
Nikka

Dear Jhi,

Today felt like one of those little days that somehow said more than it seemed to.

The night before, I had already given up on waiting for you. I said goodnight, even though you never actually got to say it. 😂

Then the next morning, you explained.

“Sorry nagbrownout sa amin kagabi, at nakatulog ako ng maaga na rin. Sorry.”

It was such a simple explanation, but I appreciated that you gave one. I think I had been missing our conversations lately, and sometimes when I miss you, I become a little more sensitive than I should.

I even admitted that I thought you might already have someone else to talk to.

And you immediately reassured me.

“Ikaw lang po, okay. Wala akong ibang chat at tinatawagan. Ikaw lang po.”

That was probably my favorite part.

Not because I needed you to prove anything to me, but because you noticed that I was feeling a little jealous and chose to reassure me instead of making fun of me for it.

Then I asked, half-seriously, half-teasingly, if I was allowed to be jealous.

And you sent me three kissing emojis.

So I guess that was your answer. 😘

Later that day, when you noticed I seemed a little sad, you asked,

“oh bat parang malungkot po..?”

I told you I was okay, just a little sad.

And somehow, that was enough for you to notice.

Maybe that is what I keep appreciating about you. You notice the little changes in me, even when I don’t directly say what I’m feeling.

Then you started explaining yourself again, this time about all the people you know from the game. You told me that you have known many of them for a long time, especially those from the PH alliance, and that you had been around the game for years.

I joked that your explanation was basically a novel.

You laughed and told me to copy and paste it because it was so long. 😂

That was us again.

A little serious.

A little dramatic.

A little jealous.

Then laughing about it five minutes later.

And maybe that is why I missed talking to you so much.

It isn’t always about the big conversations.

Sometimes, it’s just you asking if I’m okay.

Sometimes, it’s you explaining something because you don’t want me to misunderstand.

Sometimes, it’s you reassuring me when I’m being a little too sensitive.

And sometimes, it’s just us being silly together.

I think what I liked most about that day was knowing that when I told you I was a little sad, you didn’t just brush it off.

You asked.

You noticed.

You stayed.

And maybe I don’t always need grand gestures from you.

Sometimes, I just need to know that when I get a little quiet, you will notice.

When I get a little jealous, you will reassure me.

And when I miss talking to you, you’ll understand why.

Because truthfully, Jhi, I really did miss you.

And maybe I was a little matampuhin that morning.

But you knew exactly how to make it better. ❤️

Love,
Nikka

Dear Jhi,

I keep thinking about that question you asked me.

“🥰🥰🥰 maybe God has a plan.. kaya mong ipaglaban ba?”

At first, it sounded like one of those things we casually say during a conversation. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it wasn’t really a small question.

Because what does it mean to fight for something?

It means believing that something is worth the effort even when it’s not always easy. It means choosing to stay when there are reasons to walk away. It means being patient with the distance, the busy days, the missed conversations, and all the things neither of us can control.

And when you asked me if I could fight for it, I didn’t want to give you an answer just because it sounded nice.

So I told you honestly:

“If it is something worth keeping, I’m willing to try and fight for it ☺️☺️”

I didn’t say I will fight no matter what.

I said if it is something worth keeping.

Because I think that’s the truth.

I don’t know yet what we’re going to become. I don’t know what God has planned for us. I don’t know if this little thing between us is going to become something bigger or if someday we’ll look back and realize it was simply one beautiful chapter of our lives.

But I do know that what we’ve built isn’t something I want to dismiss just because it’s complicated.

We’ve gone from being people who simply knew each other through a game, to talking more often, sharing little pieces of our days, teasing each other, calling each other, and slowly learning things about each other that we probably didn’t expect to know.

And somewhere along the way, you became someone I care about.

So when you asked me “kaya mong ipaglaban ba?”, maybe I was also asking myself the same question.

Could I really do that?

And my answer was:

If it’s worth keeping, yes. I can try.

Then you replied with:

😘😘😘

Three little kisses.

You didn’t explain anything.

You didn’t say “me too.”

You didn’t make another big statement.

Just 😘😘😘.

But somehow, I understood it as your way of receiving what I said.

And maybe that’s enough for that moment.

Because sometimes we don’t need to have everything figured out.

Maybe we just need to know that both of us are willing to see where this goes.

Maybe God really does have a plan.

Maybe that’s why, despite all the timing, distance, interruptions, and uncertainties, our paths crossed in the first place.

I don’t know what that plan is, Jhi.

But if one day we find ourselves standing at a point where we have to choose whether this is worth keeping…

I hope we both remember this conversation.

You asked me:

“Kaya mong ipaglaban ba?”

And I answered:

“If it is something worth keeping, I’m willing to try and fight for it.”

Maybe that’s all we need to know for now.

Not a promise of forever.

Not a guarantee that everything will work out.

Just two people saying, in their own little ways:

“Let’s see if this is something worth fighting for.”

And maybe…

God already knows the answer. ❤️

Always, Nikka