ala-singko ng umaga. nakakabingi ang katahimikan ng pagsikat ng araw. walang tigil ang pagtakbo ng oras at tulad ng araw, nagsimula nanaman ang pangkaraniwang siklo ng buhay. patungo sa sintang paaralan na ang bawat yapak ay parang timbang ng daigdig na nakalubog sa aking mga balikat. hindi kayang buhatin kahit pa ng buong mundo sapagkat ako'y nag-iisa sa paglalakbay patungong españa.

sa bawat sulok ng maynila at mga kwento sa mga kalsadang ito, may mga paalala ng mga biyaheng hindi pa nararating at mga pangarap na patuloy hinahanap. sa kanto ng españa't lacson, sa kabila ng paghahanap at pag-asa, hindi natagpuan ang isa't isa. sa magkabilang sulok ng noval at dapitan, ang iyong mga imahe ay tila mga alaala na nakaukit sa pinakaloob ng aking isipan, kumakatok nang palaging handang buksan ang pintuan. bawat hakbang ko ay may kabigha-bighani **** presensya, subalit ang hinahanap kong pagtatagpo ay patuloy na umiwas sa akin, nag-iwan ng hinagpis at naglakbay nang walang direksyon.

"manong para po" ang aking bulong sa jeepney drayber na parang tinik na dumadaloy sa aking lalamunan, humihila at humihila sa mga alaala na tila mga bagyong dumaraan sa aking isipan. bawat sinag ng araw, bawat hagupit ng hampas ng hangin, ay parang himagsik ng damdamin na hindi ko maitago.

sa bawat kanto paikot ng españa, naroon ang mga multo ng ating nakaraan. mga anino ng mga alaala na hindi ko matakasan at sa bawat pagtatanong mo kung may pag-asa pa ba, ang bawat sagot ko ay tila mga punyal na tumatagos sa aking kalooban, nagsasabing wala nang dahilan para muling mangarap.ayaw ko nang lumakad sa landas ng nakaraan, na puno ng  mga bakas na minsan tayo'y nagtahup na patuloy na bumabalik at sumisira sa isipan.

at sa wakas, narito na ako sa dulo ng aking paglalakbay, ngunit ang landas na tinahak ay tila isang malawak na dagat, hindi alintana kung gaano karaming bagyo at baha ang dinaanan. at kung tatanungin mo ako kung pu-puwede pa ba, ang hihilingin ko sa iyo ay mga barya papalayo sa'yo. ayaw ko nang malunod sa unang daan na puno ng kahapon at mga alaalang tila multong ayaw umahon.

at sa bawat paghakbang ko patungo sa hinaharap, ang iyong alaala ay parang banta na nagbubulag-bulagan sa akin tuwing naglalakbay ako. nakakapangilabot. mahal pa rin kita. mahal pa rin pala kita.

hindi na kasingpait ng dati.
pero mahal, masakit pa.

god forbid, but there's no way to deny it. juliet's family had perfected the art of chaos. it was not just a mere event, but it was their way of life.

mornings turn into a journey of walking on a maze of landmines. and family dinners were an event to behold. the white wheat of rice flew like confetti, pieces of vegetables and fruits ricocheted like bullets, and her cats were forever in fear of an imminent earthquake.
god forbid, but she couldn't just escape the relentless storm from her family. if you asked her to define what's normal, she'd probably draw you a sketch of a random line and label it "home sweet home".

juliet yearned for an escape like a sailor lost in an ocean, longing for the calming waves of the sea. each day felt like a battle against the tide of noise. she'd die for silence, for a moment to collect her thoughts without interruption. her room, once her sanctuary, had actually become a battleground of noise. her favorite songs blared through the walls, while her favorite video game conquests echoed like a distant thunder. it felt like a castaway on her own island, drowned and surrounded by a sea of hurls.

desperately seeking a haven of solitude, the constant waves that took her, leaving her like a mere shell of who she once was, part of her, hoped for a place— a place that she could call her home.

mother, i hope you understand that i have my own path to take. i can hear your voice reaching through the halls of my mind, pushing me to follow in your path and be the one to carry the flame of your unfulfilled dreams. but, dear mother, i beg you to realize that my desire is entirely unique to me; they are a symphony of hushed voices that sing to the pulse of my existence.

i want to chase the palette of my grail. i seek to paint the world with the vibrant hues of my imagination and draw a future that reflects the depth of my soul and the beauty of my own dreams. your ambitions have cast a shadow over mine, and the manner in which our tales collide has suffocated the burning spark that dwells within me. i have an intense thirst to be able to look at the world through my own prism and to walk along the road of my heart's desire without the shadows cast by yours. i am begging you to listen to my words because they are burdened with the weight of a soul that longs to be set free.

mother, allow me the ability to roam; i want to experience the thrill of venturing into the unknown and determining my own path. i beg you to release me from the chains of expectations, for my soul craves the ease to move with no boundaries within the boundless horizon of possibility. give me room to breathe and a chance to uncover the layers of my own existence without the burden of your hopes and ambitions. let me have the freedom to find my way through the labyrinth of being alive, to trip, fall, and get back up on my own pace. please spare me the unrelenting storm of judgment and control that washes the color out of my entire existence.

how can i be open in front of others when i feel like i can't breathe because of your suffocating grip? i can't let out the complex web of emotions i've been feeling because you're always holding me back. how can i let others in, if i can't even let myself be vulnerable around you?

i am sick and tired of living in the shadow of your expectations;

i am begging you my whole life to please at least—
at least, let me create my own story and be the writer of it.

or perhaps your dreams would be the death of me.

i wish my mother and father never met.

that is the first thought that crosses to me in my mind whenever things get rough. how i wish they never met, how i yearn for a reality where their paths diverged, where their match was never forged. it's the kind of pain that lies within their union, a relentless ache that seeps into the very essence of my being.

i wish my mother and father never met.

why did the fate allow the stars to align? i did not imagine that in a single moment of cosmic collision, a seed was planted, and i was condemned to bear its bitter fruit. i never knew that the torment would bring forth by the tendrils of their oblivious love entwined.

i wish my mother and father never met.

to envision a world where their lived caused me
chaos. i was craving for too much love and care. a sanctuary where can i break free from the chains of their discord, where my soul can flourish untainted by the weight of their discontent.

i wish my mother and father never met.

in the most grief of longing, i was forced to find my own strength and to stand up on my own two feet. i have learned to navigate the treacherous waters of their fusion, to the salvage shards of happiness wreckage they left behind.

i wish my mother and father never met.

i wish they didn't. i have always dreamt of a life unburdened by the weight of their presence, where the fear of love and its subsequent pain does not linger within me. oh, how i'd die for a world where their love did not cast shadows on my soul, where the scars of their struggles do not color the way i perceive affection. in this alternate existence, i would not carry the weight of their past, their own echoes of their own sorrow. i imagine a life where the walls i've built around my heart would crumble, where vulnerability is no longer a cause for alarm. a life where i am unafraid to offer my own affections, knowing they will be cherished and reciprocated in kind.

i wish my father and mother had never met. i just wanted to take a leap of hope from the love that transcends the limits of blood and anguish. am i really that hard to love?

a long time ago, there was a love story that became epic and lived on through the decades. it was a story that was full of happiness and undeniable magic which binds two souls together.

in the depths of our hearts, there was you and me, entwined in a love that knew no boundaries. between life's chaotic symphony, we found each other and intertwined like vines destined to flourish together. our souls swayed to a tune only they could decipher, rhythmic to a beat that drifted to the universe. the light of love shone upon our entangled fates like a constant flame.

without saying a word, your voice conveyed warmth. seeing myself reflected in your eyes was like looking into a mirror that reflected the unsaid truths of my soul. it was a love that saw the value in our differences, reveled in the richness of our souls, and took comfort in believing that our two unique paths together made for an exquisite harmony.

the more time passed, the more deeply rooted our love became, like the giant oak's roots winding into the soil. but love isn't as you imagine it to be, like a storybook with a happy ending.

the love story that was a picture-perfect sanctuary has faced unexpected obstacles. we were able to ride out the storm because our love was like a rock in the middle of the ocean, but it was like a pristine pane of glass; at first glance, it sparkled with the hope of eternity, yet as time spun its intricate web, cracks appeared, silently undermining the base we had once believed to be unshakable. the rising chorus of regret drowned out the soft songs of our love.

we go our different paths, shattered spirits looking for comfort along our own journeys. the once-joyous laughter shared is now a faint echo of memories from the past, tinged with melancholy. the narrative we built fell apart like a delicate tapestry under the pressure of unspoken words and broken promises, just as if the strands had been unraveling until it finally collapsed.

the story of you and i serves as a reminder, showing us that not all tales end with a happily ever after. our story, one which we are no longer writing together, still bears echoes of a love— a love that shaped us, molded us, and for all time will leave an enduring stamp on our souls.

after all, it's nice to know you're loved, even if it won't always last.
it’s nice to remember that once upon a time, there was also a moment when there was only you and me. in that instant we found a connection that defied the boundaries of time and space.

dear rowan,
the atmosphere was as light as a feather, and as i stared at you, i imagined that we would be the couple of the night we see in romantic movies. i have fond memories of all the great things that we used to do together, the joy that we experienced, and the underlying love and care that we had for one another. you deceive me with your gaze, and the curve of your lips entices me to come closer.

i don't want the happy memories we shared with you to be tainted by the pain that is still here. i don't want to link you in my mind with the lingering melancholy. these distracting thoughts are starting to swamp my mind. i can hear it precisely now, and it's getting deafening inside my head. when i thought about you, i was reminded of my trust. you're hurting me more with what is true than with your lies.

you captivated me by your first greeting then you shattered my heart by saying your first goodbye. i fell in love with you so deeply, but you abandoned me; could you perhaps explain why? how did we get to this point? what happened to all the times i held your hand, all the times i whispered sweet nothings in your ear, all the times i did everything i could to show you i loved you?

you got rid of my worries and made them go away, but at the same time, you got rid of my love and tore my heart out. my chest is in excruciating pain as your eyes turn away from mine, and i can see all of the love fading away from your eyes as the days go by. as you turned away, telling me that today was the day you needed to stop, my heart broke a little.

i am aware that love can be hard to come by, but losing your love would be too much for me to take. so i take a deep intake of the icy air as i sit here all by myself in the dark on a chair made of wood. the tears that i cry each and every day seem to be dripping as my mind wanders further and further away.

perhaps the most amazing part of it all was when we finally connected. the way you walked and talked, as well as those sparkling eyes, continue to infiltrate my thoughts both throughout the day and at night. darling, you light a fire in my dark soul and inspire me to put pen to paper. if, on the other hand, i start to feel wrath and grief as a result of your leaving, i ask that you not take it to heart.

rowan, the truth is, i never leave. what's more, i stayed despite of all the difficulties. never once have i considered leaving. i am worried that if i did that, it would inflict an irreparable pain, and it would make you feel like a somewhat less whole person because you might find flaws in yourself despite the fact that you are complete. leaving is the option i would choose the least if given a chance, but if it's for your personal good, i wouldn't make you stay with me even if it meant that my world would become more gray if we weren't together. i have hope that you are aware of how much i loved you and how much i treasure the fact that you exist. but at this point, you made up your decision to go because things had begun to give you a sense that they were not quite right. i am aware that wishing for your continued presence is fruitless because there is no longer any light at the end of the tunnel.

rowan, i regret the ending. the fact that we can't be an iconic hollywood couple who always gets their happily ever after in a movie. the way we couldn't part ways without hurting one another. the way we made it appear as if the time we spent together sharing our love was meaningless. i don't know what healing looks like, but getting rid of your scent on my hoodie feels like the right spot to have a good start again.

it was the month of december the night you arrived by the light of the moon. the air smelled strongly with the scent of the pure and chaste blossoms that were white in color. the experience of breathing your aroma is like taking a whiff of a flower, which you could do for the rest of your life. that lovely vanilla aroma was carried by the breeze just before we crossed paths with one another. after that, everything in my life was turned upside down, and love came with your smell.

but now it's summer, and every flower is a bright shade of yellow. red, sweet berries will be taken off the branches by birds when they are perfectly ripe. i lean down to put my finger on a stem. how quickly my flower-filled youth has passed me by, and how dreary and cold this day has become. like the bowed vines, i shudder as rains shimmer with my own tears and fall.

a perfume was able to capture the nuances of my emotions and transform them into scents that i'll never be capable of throwing away. the same fragrance is still sprayed from the same bottle, but now it has an unsettling scent about it. it smells like fear— smells like fear for not wearing it as you used to. when i first smelled you, i thought i'd found the perfect perfume to compliment my soul. now, though, you're the one thing that i loathe which makes my emotions flare and my breath stop.

my heart broke apart just like the bottle of perfume i watched someone throwing it away on the ground. the perfume is not a scent; instead, it is a feeling that i had in my chest when i was looking for someone to wear with my favorite clothes. i loved that perfume, and brought it every single moment and used it as a reminder, a small tiny chime of all the bittersweet things you did. but now, it smells exactly the same as the scent that i despised the most.