Dear NKRL,
(You know who you are—I won’t name drop.)

This is the last time you’ll see me, hear from me, or even feel like you still have access to me.
By the time you read this, I might already be married. And I hope that thought pierces through your ego.

God knows how low I had fallen when you met me.
You came into my life at the most unexpected time—
but your timing never quite matched mine.
You made a move when I wasn’t even interested.
And I admit, you had charm.
You were great… until you weren’t.

Back then, I didn’t know what “love bombing” or “guilt-tripping” meant.
All I knew was what I felt—confused, manipulated, and small.
Turns out, I was already experiencing it.
I just didn’t have the words for it yet.

I used to be thankful you’d make time for me despite your “busy schedule.”
But then I realized—I was something you just squeezed in between everything else.
You became forceful about things I wasn’t ready for.
Things I didn’t want.
And we had no label.
I asked for one.
You said we had to keep things discreet—because we were neighbors.

When I became single, you turned me into your fling.
And when you ghosted me, I spiraled.
Overthinking.
Questioning.
Hurting.
“What are we?”
“Was I not enough?”
I felt jealous, angry—but I had no right, because there was nothing real to hold on to.

Eventually, I got tired of waiting.
For the label I was begging and asking from you
But all you gave me were reasons,
Just like how thick a Dictionary is,
It was just like you too.
I got tired of it, waiting for nothing
Not knowing when will that happen.
You always tell me that I do not know how to wait. I am impatient.

So, anyways;
I found someone else.
And you… you backed off. Maybe out of respect, or maybe just because it wasn’t convenient anymore.

Our on-and-off, undefined something faded.
I started unsending the messages I had sent—the ones you never even cared to read.
That’s how pitiful I felt, like I was begging for breadcrumbs you had no intention of sharing.

Then came 2022.
I found my soulmate.
And you—you ruined us.

When my partner found out about our past, he was furious.
And I don’t blame him.
I let you in—not because I still had feelings for you,
but because I thought you were still my friend.
But I was wrong.
You weren’t.
You used that friendship to worm your way in and blur lines.
You abused the closeness I once thought was safe.

I felt like a cup of hot coffee—
left unattended.
And when he finally came back,
I had already gone cold.

But the issue was never the coffee.
It was always the one who was supposed to drink it.

I always waited for him—
until one day, I didn’t anymore.
Because time won’t wait for me,
and I can’t keep letting it pass me by
while holding on to someone
who never truly held on to me.

How can I say yes to your demand when it was against my favors?
How can I be with you when you are not the man I prayed for?
How can I even hold your hand when you never extended it for me to reach?
How can I choose you when you only choose me when you are bored?
How can I form a relationship with someone who only saw me as a **** buddy?
How can I go back to you when you only saw me as a past time hobby?
How can I love you when you cannot even afford to love me first?
How can you offer me comfort when you cannot even provide for yourself?

I am grateful for the memories, truly
But I never realized that,
Not all closed doors when opens are from God,
Sometimes it leads you to the wrong person or direction.

But one day, whenever I see you
I’ll never learn to smile the same again.
Maybe the scars will stay a little longer.
But I know this deep in my bones:
I’ll make it through.

And if you ever decide to wait for me—
truly wait—
then maybe, just maybe,
you'll find me
not where you left me,
but somewhere stronger.

By the way,
thank you so much for holding my hand—
I truly thought you were the one pulling me out of the storm.
Somehow, I was wrong.

You were the reason for my drowning,
the weight beneath the waves,
the anchor I mistook for rescue.
You weren’t my light—
you were my darkness.

So here I am now—stronger, wiser, finally done.
No more waiting. No more unsent messages.
No more trying to decode your silence.

This is goodbye.
No closure needed.
Because I’ve already closed that door myself.

—Me.

It is kilig on my part
when I hear TJ Monterde's song entitled Mahika
playing randomly on the radio or thru Spotify.
It catches me off guard in the sweetest way—
like the universe reminding me that love exists
in the quiet, simple moments.

The lyrics goes like:

'Di ka pa man lang kumikibo, ayos na
(Even without you saying a word, everything already feels right)

May mahika ka pang dala-dala
(You carry magic with you)

Sa piling mo
(In your presence)

Bumabagal, humihinto ang mundo
(Time slows down, the world comes to a halt)

Sa piling mo
(In your presence)

Ayaw kong mawala, ayaw kong mawala
(I don’t want to be lost; I don’t want to be lost)


Love is indeed magical—
something that you cannot fully explain with words,
but rather through the unspoken, through actions.
It’s in the way someone holds your hand,
in the silence that feels like home,
in a glance that calms your storm.
It’s the comfort in their presence,
the steady beat of their heart beside yours.
Love is not loud—it’s felt.
Subtle, yet powerful. Mysterious, yet familiar.
It’s mahika—
the kind that lingers long after the music fades.

Healing your inner child can be expensive, both financially and emotionally, but the joy that comes with it is priceless.
That moment when you finally buy clothes that truly express who you are, collect items you've long admired, or visit places you once dreamed of—it's not just about the purchase or the trip.
It's an act of self-love, a way of giving to yourself what you once thought was out of reach.
That's why you should try to gradually reach for your dreams and heal our inner child.

I have had it all covered
Once or twice will do
But I did nothing wrong,
Why mention my name all of the sudden?
I kept my mouth shut
for the longest time
for a hundred or thousands of times
to keep my peace
and gave you peace and respect in return
what do you fvcking need?
an attention or details to ease your mind from overthinking
out of context, from your whimsical story maker of a child?
you are a ******* open book
your personality never fitted from your face
a disgusting *****
corrupting your generation's mind
you are a mundane *******
scandalous, pathetic *****
it was a female dog, not meant to turn into a behavior
you are such an escandalosa
Maria Makiling by face, loudmouth by personality
her name is Maria Ligaya, married a cano
but she changed and became a mata pobre