Note to Self, and to You

One thing I keep hearing these days:

“Uy, tumaba ka.”

And I’m always like, “Seriously? You really have to blurt that out?” Of course, I can only say that to myself because there’s a thing called manners.

It pisses me off that some people just can’t stop pointing out someone’s weight gain.

I mean, unless I’m morbidly obese with health risks here and there, what’s the big deal?

I have always gained and lost weight that I stopped losing sleep over it.

But it really irritates me that only way to start a conversation some people know is by commenting on weight.

Which got me thinking —

If I sparked a conversation with these people by stating how dumb they’ve become, or how insensitive they are, would they engage in a conversation?

I don’t think so.

If you’re reading this, I hope a realization dawns on you —

that when your parent/teacher taught you not to say anything if you’re not gonna say something nice,

they were right.


Last words

Your pathetic existence still irks the f*ck out of me, but like what my partner said, it’s useless to be right when I’m dealing with idiots like you.

So I’ll let you karma take its course. After all, you still owe me.

You owe me money.

You owed me your job when you were supposed to be terminated months before you actually got fired.

I defended your name from people who you said were trying to bring you down.

I see you now for what you are.

An incompetent person, trying to dupe good people into doing you favors for your personal gain.

You lie and cheat your way to get what you want.

You fucking scammer.

Just another letter from one grateful partner.


Thank you for this week.. and every week you have to put up with my hormone-driven mood swings. I know I’m being too much at times, but thank you for the extended patience and much-needed understanding.

I love you.

I know I seem cold most of the time and I tend not to pay attention when I’m engrossed with what I’m doing, but know this:

You are the best thing that happened to me. You are the miracle I prayed hard for. You are everything I thought I’d never have, but you came my way and made everything better.

Thank you, M.

To the girl before me


“Thank you for letting him go, that’s the one mistake I will never commit. I realized something you didn’t— it’s that he deserves hands that will never relinquish its grip on him, hands that will hold him faithfully and undoubtedly. He didn’t deserve someone who couldn’t love what he was and what he was not, someone who couldn’t cherish his entirety.

I know you’re a past that’s been peeking at his present. You don’t have to act and pretend that nothing has changed. That his voice is still yours, like his smile and his family still belongs to you. When you lost him, you lost the multiverse that he is. When you lost him, you lost a lot. You lost his soft heart, his deserving hands, his morning voice, his undeniably heart-melting efforts, and his charming genes. You will be nostalgic of the kids you will never get to have with him. And I assure you, I will be gentle with all of the things that you lost. I was put on this exact universe to hold him infinitely. I love him in a capacious ballroom floor. In scrupulous care. In tenuous walls. In an endless earth rotation. I love him in ways you failed to. I love him without any intent of quitting.

Every single cell in a human body dies and is replaced with new cells all the time. Like being reborn again and again. The man who loves me isn’t the same man who used to be there for you. There is no longer a part of him that you have touched. He is no longer the same man you knew. You are only a memory too distant to be remembered. Like one of the stories your playmate told you when you were in kindergarten— slowly slipping out of your memory lane. Like the color of lunchbox you had in fourth grade— faded and unremembered.”

— Shi Collantes, The Present