• Personal

    How the Phone Call Ruined My Peace

    July 7, 2026

    I was not expecting any of this.

    It all started with a random Discord message. Funny enough, he keeps on coming back. So when I saw his message around 6am, I was surprised. I was still awake, so we started chatting. Then he asked if he could call me that night. I didn’t think much of it. I gave him my number. We texted a little bit, then I slept.

    10PM came. Then suddenly it’s 1AM. That is probably the longest I have ever talked to a guy on the phone.

    And the weird part? It did not even feel long.

    We laughed. a lot. The kind of laugh where you suddenly forget you are talking to someone you have technically never met. Like the kind of conversation where you were smiling without even realizing. He has this personality that matches mine, but he is sensible too. He asked a lot about me. Not just the usual questions about my life. It felt nice that someone wanted to know me.

    Also, his voice. I don’t know why it is so nice to hear. It is calm, cute, and comforting. I caught myself smiling just because of his voice.

    The following day, he texted good morning. We talked again. He called me again at night.

    Then the following day, he texted good morning and called me during his lunch break like he promised, and we chatted until around 2pm.

    After that… Silence.

    Around 9PM he apologized because work was really busy. Thirty minutes later, he texted that he had just gotten home. I simply replied that I had eaten dinner.

    And that was it. No more messages.

    Today, I caught myself waiting. waiting for my phone to light up. Waiting for him. I even sent him a playful good morning message teasing him that he probably is still not done eating.

    No reply. Maybe he is really busy. Maybe he is just… him.

    Because even before all of this, he was already the type to disappear and suddenly come back like nothing happened.

    What really gets me, though, is looking back at our discord conversation before the call. I laughed it off. It caught me off guard. Reading my responses made me laugh and cringe at the same time. I was just surprised. My brain stopped functioning for a while. I did not know what to say.

    I think what is happening now is that I am realizing something. I like talking to him too. A lot. His voice that somehow became comforting after only a few calls.

    It is funny how someone can go from being another alliance mate in a game to becoming the person whose notification you are secretly hoping to see.

    I don’t know where this is going. Maybe nowhere.

    Maybe somewhere. But I do know this. For the first time in a long time, I found myself talking to someone for hours without getting bored. I found myself smiling at my phone. And for the first time in a long time, I am actually looking forward to hearing someone’s voice again.

    I am glad those conversations happened.

    So for now… I will wait. Not because I have to. But I genuinely hope this is not the end of the story.

    Maybe tomorrow my phone will light up.

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  • Personal

    That Ride I Thought Would Be My Last

    June 2, 2025

    Today gave me a real scare. I was on my way somewhere when suddenly the vehicle I was riding started swerving. Not just once—but several times. It felt like we were seconds away from tipping over. It was going way too fast for comfort, and I could feel my heart pounding in my chest.

    I froze. My hands were cold, my heart was racing. I looked out the window, and for a moment—just one moment—I told myself:

    “Lord, if this is it… don’t bring me back. Just let it be quick.”

    That thought scared me even more than the ride.

    I kept looking at the driver, trying to make sense of what was happening. There was nothing on the road to avoid. No sudden obstacle. No sharp turn. That’s when it hit me—did he fell asleep? He didn’t brake. He didn’t swerve to avoid anything. It just… happened.

    I tried to stay calm, but I could feel my hands shaking and my breath getting shallow. That kind of fear—the kind where you realize how quickly things can change—really sticks with you.

    What really made it worse is that I am solo in this country. No family, no familiar faces to run to if things go wrong. That moment made me feel how vulnerable I really am here.

    And you know what? I could have said something.
    I could have asked the driver what the hell happened.
    I could have scolded him for risking our lives.
    I could have demanded an explanation.

    But I didn’t.

    I just looked at him and said, “Thank you.”

    Not because he deserved it.
    Not because I wasn’t angry or afraid.
    But because in that moment, I was just grateful to still be standing.

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  • Personal

    When I Chose Courage Over Silence

    May 31, 2025

    Dear Blog,

    Today, I did something brave. Or maybe something emotional. Or maybe both.

    I sent him a lot of messages… like, five long ones. Yeah, I know — a lot. But when your heart feels heavy and full of things left unsaid, sometimes it just spills over. And that’s exactly what happened today.

    I told him I miss him. That I’ve never really stopped caring, even when things went quiet. I just couldn’t pretend anymore that the silence didn’t hurt.

    So I said what I needed to say — that I don’t want us to drift apart without at least knowing how he feels. Not knowing is a kind of ache that lingers in the background, and I guess I was done carrying that alone.

    At one point, I even asked, “What did you do to me?” Not in a bitter way, just… wondering how someone could leave such an imprint on me without even trying.

    It was vulnerable, raw, and maybe a little too much — but it was real. I told him that if he sees my messages, I hope he won’t ignore them. That if anything I’ve said still means something to him, even just a little, I’d appreciate hearing something. Anything.

    Because silence doesn’t always feel like peace — sometimes it feels like being forgotten.

    And in the last message, I gave him something softer. I know he’s cautious — careful with his heart, with his steps, with people. But I reminded him that life doesn’t always wait for us to feel ready. Sometimes, we miss good things because we’re too afraid to take a chance on them.

    I don’t know if he’ll respond.

    I don’t know if it reached him, or if I just poured my feelings into a quiet void.

    But I do know this: today, I spoke from the heart. And no matter what happens, I won’t regret being honest.

    Because caring isn’t weakness. Sometimes, it’s the strongest thing you can do.

    — Me

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  • Personal

    Just Me, Being Real

    May 26, 2025

    Hey Blog,

    Here I am again.

    Just wanted to write and let a few things out. Lately, I have been feeling a mix of everything—busy on the outside, but lowkey messy on the inside. You know that feeling when life keeps moving but your emotions are kind of stuck? That is where I am at.

    I have been keeping myself occupied—doing things I need to do, trying to stay productive. On paper, everything looks okay. But inside? There’s this weird heaviness I cannot shake off.

    Jealousy.

    Yeah, I said it.

    I do not usually get jealous—not in a loud, dramatic way. But I have been feeling it quietly, deeply. That kind of jealousy that does not even show, but eats at you a little. And it is not even about wanting to have what others have… it is more like wishing I did not care so much.

    I see things. I notice the closeness. The way someone lights up when they talk to other people—and suddenly, I feel like I’m just… there. Not invisible, but not chosen either.

    I hate feeling like this. Because I know it makes me seem weak or insecure, but that is not it. I just care. Maybe more than I should. And when I care, I get affected. Simple as that.

    So yeah. That is what I have been up to— trying to look fine while quietly dealing with feelings I did not really ask for.

    I am not mad. I am not even sad all the time. I just feel… a little off. A little left out. A little too much sometimes, and not enough other times.

    But maybe that is okay. Maybe this is just part of figuring life and emotions out.

    Thanks for being here again, Blog.

    You are my quiet space when I cannot really say things out loud.

    — Me

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  • Personal

    When Silence Starts to Speak

    May 19, 2025

    Dear Blog,

    Sorry, but once again, you’ve become the catcher of all my feelings.

    I don’t really have someone to vent all my frustrations in life to right now, so here you are—my safe space for now.

    I am honestly doing fine being single. I am happy, really.

    I have learned to enjoy my own company, chase what I want, and live life on my terms.

    But lately… I do not know.

    Out of nowhere, there is this quiet kind of sadness that creeps in.

    That longing for something more.

    That small voice deep down that still hopes to have something I can call home someday—a family of my own.

    I am proud of where I am. I have done things for myself, made decisions just for me.

    But it still feels different knowing someone is there—someone who reminds you you are not alone in this life.

    Not just anyone, but someone who chooses to stay, especially on the days you do not even ask them to.

    So yeah, I am feeling all sorts of things today.

    Too many thoughts, emotions I cannot fully name.

    And this is not even like me—I am not usually this emotional.

    But here I am. Writing again. Rambling again.

    And you— yes, you, in case you ever come across this—

    I hope you are someone who understands what this kind of silence means.

    I hope you are someone who will stay, not just when it is light and easy, but even when my heart feels like this—unfiltered, unsure, but honest.

    That is all for now.

    ’Til next time, blog.

    —Me

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  • Personal

    Happy Birthday in Heaven, Dade

    April 13, 2025

    Today is your birthday, Dade. Happy birthday in Heaven. I really miss you down here. I still wish you were alive—so I’d have someone with me here at home. It gets lonely sometimes. Even though I’ve gotten used to this setup, and I’m doing okay, it would still be so much better if you were here.

    I visited you today after church. Honestly, I wasn’t planning to go—I was scared to go alone. But I did it anyway. I gathered my courage and went. That alone felt like a big thing for me. When I got there, I saw your grave, but I couldn’t get close. There were so many overgrown weeds and tall plants—some already looked like trees. There was no clear path to walk through. Still, I stood there for a while, just being there with you.

    While I was there, Sitsit called. I showed him the place through a video call. He got curious and said, “So this is Wowo’s house now.” And he’s right—that’s your home now. We talked as I showed him the surroundings. It felt comforting to have someone with me, even just virtually.

    I miss your cooking the most. Especially the green leafy vegetables you loved making—saluyot, in particular. You even made a little song about it, remember? It still makes me smile thinking about it. Our bond over food is something I hold so close to my heart. Because of you, I learned to enjoy eating as a kid. I still remember that pork dish you made—it was so simple, but for some reason, it made me eat with such excitement. I think that’s when my love for food really started.

    I miss your pinapaitan too. There’s just something about the way you cooked it that’s different from Mame’s—your version had that special something. And the bulalo! Every time we went back to the province, that was always our request. Then there’s your igado, adobo, and so many more dishes. I miss them all. I miss you. So much.

    Wherever you are now, I hope you can feel how much I still carry you in my heart. I celebrate you today and always.

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  • Personal

    Dear 45-Year-Old Me

    August 23, 2024

    Dear 45-Year-Old Me,

    I hope you are okay.

    I hope the mornings feel lighter now, not because life got easier, but because you have learned how to carry things better. I wonder what your days look like. I wonder if you have finally found a rhythm that does not hurt.

    Did we make it to where we always wanted to be?

    I hope you have a job you like — or at least one that gives you peace. Something steady. Something that lets you breathe. You always said you didn’t need grand things — just something stable, something that lets you sleep at night without counting worries.

    I hope your room is quiet but not empty. That there are books, or music, or even just the sound of the fan as you rest. That your life is not loud, but it is full in its own quiet way.

    And love…

    Maybe someone came. Maybe no one did.

    But I hope you stopped measuring your worth by it.

    I hope you learned that love is not something to chase, but something that finds you when you are already whole. If they have not arrived yet, that is okay. Maybe you became everything you needed all on your own.

    I hope you are still kind — not just to others, but to yourself. I hope you do not replay old mistakes too often. I hope you have forgiven the younger version of us for not knowing better. She was trying. We both know that.

    And if things still do not look like the life we dreamed of, I hope they at least feel like something you have grown into.

    You are not late. You are just moving at your own pace.

    With all my hope,

    Your younger self

    Sometimes, life moves so fast that we forget to pause and check in with ourselves. So today, I decided to write a letter—to my future self. A letter that my 45-year-old me will one day read, filled with hopes, reminders, and maybe a little bit of advice. It’s like planting a time capsule of thoughts, dreams, and feelings that I want to remember and reflect on years from now. Writing this felt both strange and comforting, like having a conversation across time. I can’t wait to see how things have changed when I finally open it.

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  • Personal

    Me, at 40

    August 23, 2024

    I am 40 now.

    Honestly, it still feels weird to say. I thought things would look different by now. I thought I’d be more… settled. But here I am, still figuring things out.

    I left my job. I tried to make it work, stayed, hoped something better would come. It did not. I am jobless. And yeah, it is frustrating sometimes — to try and still feel like I am back at square one.

    Love? Still nothing.

    Still no one new.

    Still mending a heart that has been broken for a while now. Some days it is okay. Other days, not so much. But I have learned to sit with it — not fight it as much. Some pain just stays a little longer.

    But not everything feels heavy.

    This year, I had my first international trip.

    And I got to be with my sister again. Her family. My nephew.

    That part felt good. Like home. Like I could breathe.

    It reminded me that love shows up in different ways. And maybe that’s enough for now.

    At 40, I have not ticked all the boxes.

    No job. No partner.

    But I am here. I am trying.

    I have failed, yes — but I have also grown. Quietly. Slowly.

    I have learned to let go of things, people, places that were not for me.

    To be honest, I am still learning how to be okay with where I am.

    But I am proud I made it this far.

    So if I ever read this again someday —

    I hope I smile a little.

    And I hope I have found more peace than I have now.

    — Me, 40

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  • Personal

    Dear Me

    November 17, 2023

    Dear Me,

    I want to take this moment to honor the journey you’ve been on — the one that spans eleven years filled with love, dreams, hope, and, yes, pain. You invested so much time and emotion into something you believed in, something you hoped would last a lifetime. And even when things started to change, when the distance grew between you two, you held on. You stayed hopeful, waiting for clarity and honesty that never came.

    It hurt deeply to realize that the future you imagined wasn’t going to happen the way you thought it would. To learn, unexpectedly and silently, that he got married without telling you—it felt like the ground beneath you gave way. His silence was louder than any words he could have said. I know that pain feels raw and heavy, and it’s okay to feel betrayed, confused, and heartbroken.

    But through all of this, I want you to recognize your incredible strength. You faced a truth that many would avoid. You found the courage to end a relationship that no longer honored your worth or your heart. That was not an easy decision. Ending such a long chapter wasn’t giving up—it was an act of bravery and self-respect.

    Remember, healing is not a straight path. There will be days when the pain feels overwhelming, when the memories flood in, and when you question if you’ll ever fully move on. Those days are part of the process. But with each sunrise, you are moving forward, even if it doesn’t always feel that way. Every tear you shed, every moment of reflection, and every small step you take toward self-care is progress.

    You are deserving of kindness — especially from yourself. Speak gently to your heart, nurture your soul, and allow yourself the grace to heal at your own pace. You are not defined by this loss, but by your resilience, your capacity to love, and your willingness to grow.

    You are whole, even when you feel broken. You are enough, even when doubt creeps in. And this journey, painful as it has been, is shaping you into a stronger, wiser, and more compassionate version of yourself.

    Keep trusting your intuition. Keep believing in the love you deserve — starting with the love and respect you give to yourself. The future is still unwritten, and there are brighter days ahead. When you’re ready, open your heart again—not just to someone else, but to the beautiful possibility of loving yourself fully.

    I am proud of you, and I will always be here for you.

    With all my love and compassion,
    Me

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  • Personal

    Letting Go After Eleven Years

    October 1, 2023

    It’s been a while since everything happened — since I realized that the relationship I had held onto for eleven years was no longer what I thought it was. For over a decade, we shared moments, dreams, and a future I believed in. But somewhere along the way, after a difficult cool-off period, honest conversations stopped.

    I remember when he told my family that after his sister’s wedding, we would get married. I felt relief, like finally, there was clarity and hope. But after that, we never spoke about us again. The silence lingered, growing heavier each year.

    August 2023, I found out by chance that he is in New Zealand — not from him, but from outside sources. Later, I discovered he had gotten married before going to NZ without ever telling me. When I confronted him with what I discovered, he didn’t say a word. That silence broke something inside me. It forced me to face a painful truth: I needed to let go.

    Ending an eleven-year chapter was one of the hardest things I’ve done, but it was necessary. It’s okay to feel hurt, confused, or betrayed. What matters most is that through it all, I found strength and courage I didn’t know I had.

    I want to remind myself — and anyone who reads this — that our worth isn’t tied to the length of a relationship or someone else’s choices. We are whole on our own.

    Healing takes time. It’s a journey of kindness toward yourself and openness to new beginnings. And when the time comes, love will find its way back — starting with loving ourselves first.

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