Chapter 55
It’s our graduation day today.
And for the first time ever—my parents are here. They’re attending. They’re watching. They actually came.
I should be happy, right?
After all these years of growing up feeling invisible, today I finally get to hear them say they’re proud of me. Today, I should be celebrating—not just graduation, but also my birthday. I just turned twenty-four. Twenty-four years of surviving everything. Of holding on.
I should be proud. I should be smiling.
But all I feel is this unbearable heaviness in my chest.
Emptiness.
“Perfect. You look absolutely gorgeous, anak,” Mama said softly, her hands gently fixing the collar of my toga. Her eyes were glassy with tears—tears of joy, but mine remained dry, hollow, detached.
I couldn't even offer her a smile. Kahit isang pilit na ngiti, hindi ko kayang ibigay.
I tried.
But how do you smile when your heart feels like it’s being scraped raw from the inside?
Everything that happened still feels like it was just yesterday. The memories won’t stop replaying in my head. It’s been 15 days—15 long, agonizing days—since Cynthia left me.
Since we broke up.
Or rather—since she broke me.
I keep begging. I kept begging. Every single day, at every single graduation practice, I didn't care about the flow, the speeches, or the steps. Wala akong pake. All I could think about was her. I followed her around like a ghost that couldn’t find peace.
I begged. Over and over. Desperate. Pathetic. Tanga.
“Cynthia. Please, don’t do this. Please give me another chance. I promise—I'll be a better person,” I whispered, chasing after her footsteps down the empty hallway outside her office.
Buti na lang walang estudyante. Only silence. Only the sound of my voice echoing against the white walls and her heels clicking further and further away from me.
She didn't look back. Not even once.
“Please…” I pleaded again, finally catching up and grabbing her hand.
For a split second, she paused.
But then she yanked her hand away as if my touch burned her. Without a word, she entered her office and locked the door—leaving me out in the hallway.
Outside. Always outside.
---
“Please take this,” I said one afternoon, handing her a sandwich and a cold bottle of water. “You haven’t eaten anything since earlier…”
She didn’t even glance at it. She just stood there, looking straight ahead, ignoring me completely. It was break time during practice. I thought maybe she’d be more human, more open, even just for a moment. But she didn’t even acknowledge I existed.
“Please…” I mumbled again, lowering my hand.
“Cynthia! Let’s buy food, we haven’t eaten yet!” tawag ng isang co-professor niya, laughing as she waved.
Without hesitation, Cynthia turned toward them and left me there, sandwich still in my hand.
---
Another day. Another try.
“Take this mini fan, please. Ang init dito,” I said, holding it out to her as we stood under the blazing sun, rehearsing the processional.
She didn’t take it. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t even flinch.
“Please… kahit ito na lang. Para sayo ‘to,” I added, feeling the sting build in my chest again.
But she walked away. As if I hadn’t spoken at all. As if I wasn’t real.
It was like I was invisible to her now.
Like everything we had meant absolutely nothing. Like I never meant anything. And yet, despite all of it, I kept loving her. I kept hoping. Kahit na paulit-ulit akong nasasaktan.
Kahit nagmumukha na akong tanga.
“Smile ka naman d’yan. Graduation at birthday pa. Naka-simangot ka,” Avery teased gently from behind me, trying to lighten the mood.
“I’m not in the mood,” I replied flatly. I stood up as soon as they were done fixing my hair and my toga, avoiding everyone’s eyes.
“Where do you want to celebrate your birthday after your graduation?” my lola asked me from the sofa, folding my sash neatly on her lap.
“I want to be alone. I don’t want to celebrate. Please… respect my decision,” I said quietly, not even looking up.
The silence that followed was thick. I heard them all sigh, as if disappointed, but no one pressed further.
I sat back on the edge of my bed, scrolling through my phone, opening and closing apps I didn’t even care about. I could feel the lump in my throat rising again.
Then, I felt Ate sit beside me.
“Good luck later, okay?” she said, squeezing my shoulder. “You can do it. Don’t be too harsh on yourself.”
Her voice was calm, like always. Like she could see the storm behind my eyes, but knew better than to force it to go away.
“Let’s go. Malapit na mag-start,” she added before standing up.
I followed her out of the room. The walk to the car was quiet. The kind of quiet that felt more like a weight than a relief. Like everyone wanted to say something but knew they couldn’t fix me.
When I got inside the car, I stared out the window. Just staring. Not really seeing anything.
Then I heard Lola’s voice again from the front seat.
“I’ll give you one week after graduation. Then you’ll have to go to Singapore,” she said, like it was already written in stone.
Again. Singapore.
“Opo,” I said softly, just to say something.
I rested my head against the glass. Closed my eyes for a moment.
All I could think about was Cynthia.
And how everything inside me still hurt.
---
The auditorium is packed.
Bright lights beam down on the stage, blinding me for a moment as I take slow, careful steps toward the podium. My legs feel heavy beneath my toga. The applause rings in my ears, but it doesn’t reach my heart. I clutch my speech—two pages of words I’ve written.
Today, I am valedictorian.
Summa cum laude.
Top of my batch.
They called my name like it was the greatest honor in the world.
But nothing about today feels like victory.
I take a deep breath, standing in front of
thousands of people—classmates, professors, parents, strangers. My parents are here. For once, they’re actually watching. But the one person I really want to see—my eyes keep searching for her.
Cynthia.
I clear my throat and begin.
“Good afternoon, esteemed faculty, fellow graduates, and beloved families…”
My voice sounds steady, almost too steady. Like it doesn’t belong to someone barely holding herself together.
I continue reading the speech. My hands don’t shake, but my heart does.
“I want to talk about growth—not just academic, but emotional. The kind of growth you earn when you’ve been broken, when you’ve fallen short, when you’ve been told you weren’t enough…”
My voice cracks slightly, just slightly. I pause, pretending it’s for dramatic effect.
But really, it’s because I saw her.
There she is.
In the crowd, in the far left section, third row from the stage.
Cynthia.
She’s wearing a plain navy blouse and slacks, her hair tied back the way she always does when she’s trying not to cry.
But she’s here.
And she’s staring at me.
Our eyes lock. Time stops.
I try to keep reading.
“But the truth is, behind every medal, every recognition, there are nights filled with doubt, days filled with silence…"
Her gaze doesn’t break.
She’s looking at me like—
Like she loves me.
Like she still loves me.
Like she never stopped.
And it hurts.
It hurts so much to be seen like that, especially now, especially after everything. Because I don’t know if it’s real. I don’t know if I can trust it.
I don’t know if I should.
I swallow hard. My eyes flick down to the paper in my hands, the printed words starting to blur.
“I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for the people who pushed me, challenged me, and—whether they meant to or not—taught me how to fight for myself.”
Her eyes soften.
As if she knows I’m talking about her.
As if she knows she’s still the root of every sentence I struggle to finish.
“I used to think strength meant never breaking. But maybe… it means choosing to stand up even when you’re shattered.”
I force a smile. Just enough to make it believable.
Just enough to finish the speech.
“I stand here not just to celebrate my own journey, but to remind every broken version of myself—and anyone else who feels the same—that healing is never linear, and love, real love, doesn’t always come wrapped in perfect timing.”
I look up again.
She’s still watching me.
And this time, she smiles.
But it’s the kind of smile that carries a thousand unsaid things.
Regret. Hope. Maybe even goodbye.
I blink, then look away.
Because if I don’t, I’ll cry.
I finish the last line of my speech, step down from the podium, and return to my seat with applause following me like a wave I can’t ride.
Around me, people cheer. My name is called. Medals are handed. Photos are taken. Flashbulbs go off.
But I keep stealing glances at her.
And I wonder…
Is she proud of me?
Is she hurting too?
Minahal niya ba talaga ako?
That question keeps echoing in my head like a broken record.
I didn’t even realize graduation was already over.
I didn’t hear the cheering, the clapping, the way people around me screamed each other’s names and took pictures with their diplomas.
Para akong nawala sa sarili.
I was just sitting there, staring into space, holding my medal in one hand and my phone in the other, like both of them suddenly meant nothing.
And now I’m here. At my favorite place. The same spot where I once brought her. The view is still the same—quiet, slightly breezy, the perfect place to pretend the world isn't too heavy. But this time, it feels different.
This time, I’m drunk. This time, I’m alone.
I laugh bitterly as I slump against the bench. “Happy fucking birthday,” I mutter to myself, letting my head fall back and stare up at the sky.
“It’s my birthday. It’s my fucking birthday. Pero bakit… bakit ganito yung nararamdaman ko?”
My hands are shaking, so I shove them into my coat pockets.
"Why does it feel like everything’s crashing down? I should be happy, right? I graduated. I made my parents proud. I’m finally done. But... why does it feel like I lost everything in the same breath?”
I chuckle, but it’s hollow.
“How can love be this cruel?” I whisper. “How can it lift you up so high, only to drop you and watch you break into pieces?”
My eyes sting again, but I don’t stop the tears this time. I just let them fall, slowly, silently.
“I tried to be strong. I told myself I’d be okay. Na lilipas rin ‘to. That if I focused on school, on my friends, on the things I used to love, I’d somehow forget the way your voice sounds when you’re tired, or the way you’d squeeze my hand twice when you were nervous.”
I shake my head and wipe at my face, but the tears keep coming.
“I lied to myself. Kasi kahit anong gawin ko, kahit ilang beses kong pilitin ‘yung sarili ko to move on, I keep going back to you.”
I open my phone, scroll through our old messages—just for a second. Just to feel something again. To remind myself that it wasn’t all in my head.
And then I do the one thing I promised myself I wouldn’t do.
I called her.
I know it’s stupid. I know it’s pathetic. Pero birthday ko naman, diba? Can’t I just be selfish this one time?
The phone rings. One... two... three...
I hold my breath with every second.
Please answer. Just this once. Kahit ngayon lang.
After the fifth ring, I almost hang up.
And then… she answers.
“Hi,” I say, barely louder than a whisper.
There’s a pause.
“If you keep begging, I have no choice but to block—”
“Please,” I say, my voice trembling. “Can you not be harsh right now? Please. Just… be soft. Even for a moment. I’m hurting too.”
I clench my hand into a fist, trying to ground myself.
“You don’t have to say anything. Just listen. That’s all I ask. Just let me talk, kahit ngayon lang. Please stop shutting me out like I never mattered. Like I was just a temporary part of your life.”
I swallow hard, tasting tears and alcohol and the bitterness of everything unsaid.
“I’ve been asking myself this one question again and again: Was your love real? Or was I just convenient? Someone to hold for a little while until you found your way back to someone else?”
Still, she says nothing. But I keep going.
“Do you remember when we first met? Sa kitchen pa ‘yon, diba? You were reaching for snacks you couldn’t get, and you were cursing under your breath—akala mo walang nakakarinig. I helped you reach them, and you just rolled your eyes at me like I was the most annoying person on earth.”
I let out a shaky laugh.
“But I found it cute. I don’t even know why. Maybe because in that moment, you were just so… real. No pretenses. No walls. Just this grumpy, honest girl who didn’t care what anyone thought.”
“And something about that pulled me in.”
I pause, remembering the way her eyes used to soften whenever she looked at me—like I was the only one who could calm the storm inside her.
“I never thought I’d fall in love with someone like you. Hell, I didn’t even believe in real love before you. I was a mess, always joking my way through life, dating for fun, not for keeps. Everyone knew me as the confident one. The playgirl. But then you came in and messed everything up. In the best way. And the worst.”
“You made me feel things I didn’t think I was capable of. Vulnerability. Safety. Joy. And then you made me feel this too—this heartbreak that doesn’t seem to end.”
I breathe in, voice trembling.
“I gave you everything. All the parts of me I kept hidden from the world. Lahat ng soft parts, lahat ng fears, lahat ng hopes ko—I handed them to you. And you held them. And then one day, you just… dropped them.”
More silence.
“It’s not fair. You told me you loved me. And I believed you. I still believe you. That’s the most fucked up part.”
I let out a sob I can’t control anymore.
“I wish I hated you. That would be easier. I wish I could say I was over you, that I didn’t care. But I can’t. Kasi mahal pa rin kita. And maybe that’s stupid. Maybe I’m stupid.”
I wipe at my face again, but the tears are relentless now.
“I’m not calling to win you back. I’m not here to beg for a second chance. I just wanted you to know… you mattered. You still do. Even after everything. Even when it hurts.”
My voice softens.
“I don’t know how long it’ll take for this pain to fade. I don’t know when I’ll stop looking for you in every crowd. But for now, I just wanted you to know this—I loved you. I still do. And I hope, somewhere deep down, you loved me too.”
Still, no words from her.
"Do you remember when we were in the province? I was so happy then. That time, mas lalo tayong naging malapit sa isa't isa. And even though I knew I had no chance with you, basta the fact that I was with you, that made me happy. Wala akong pakialam kung hindi kita kayang gawing akin, basta nandiyan ka, okay na ako. You have no idea how much happiness I felt just being with you. It was like the whole world didn’t exist as long as you were beside me. I didn’t need anything else. You were all I wanted.”
I stopped myself, the ache in my chest threatening to break through as the words spilled out. I was unraveling, and I didn’t care anymore. I needed to say this, even if it hurt.
“I was even happier nung sinabi mo na magiging official tayo. When I found out you didn’t have a boyfriend, my world lit up. I wanted to scream from happiness. Finally, I thought, finally I had a chance. And then, you told me you felt the same way. You have no idea how much that meant to me. You brought me back to life, Cynthia. Hindi mo alam kung gaano mo ako binuhay muli. I felt like I was falling in love for the first time, like everything made sense for once. Just the thought that you were mine, that you were choosing me... it felt like I could breathe again.”
But as I let out my confession, the silence that followed seemed to grow louder and heavier. The weight of her unspoken response crushed me in a way I didn’t expect. Her coldness was palpable, and it made every word I said feel pointless, as though I was speaking to a wall.
I had to ask it. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. The question that had haunted me for days, weeks—Did you ever love me?
“Cynthia, minahal moba talaga ako?” The words came out in a desperate rush. “In those moments when we were together—when we laughed, when we kissed, when we hugged, when we comforted each other—did that mean anything to you? Did you ever love me?”
The silence stretched between us, making the words hang in the air, unanswered. I waited. And I waited. Hoping, praying that somehow, she would say something different, anything that could make this hurt less.
But then, she spoke. Her voice was distant, so cold that it made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
“I did.”
“Y-you did?” My voice trembled, my breath catching in my throat. “Then what did you mean about last time? Hindi mo 'yon totoo sinabi, ‘di ba? Cynthia, please… sabihin mo lang na hindi mo sinasadya…”
Silence. Long. Heavy. The kind of silence that made my heart thud painfully in my ears.
“I don't mean it. I'm sorry."
I felt the air leave my lungs. “W-what?"
“I can’t stay,” she repeated, slower this time. “Not because you did anything wrong. Not because I don’t love you. I do. God, Sylvia… I do.”
“Then why?” I asked, my voice breaking completely now. “Cynthia, kung mahal mo ako, bakit mo ko iiwan?”
“Because love doesn’t always mean holding on,” she said softly. “Sometimes it means knowing when to let go. Even if it hurts.”
I sobbed, shaking my head as if she could see me. “Hindi mo pwedeng gawin ‘to sakin. Hindi mo pwedeng sabihing mahal mo ako tapos aalis ka lang.”
“I wish I could give you more answers,” she whispered. “I really do. But I need you to trust me when I say that this… this is for the best.”
“Bullshit,” I whispered hoarsely. “Kung mahal mo ako, you’d fight for me. You’d stay.”
“I can’t.” Her voice cracked, just a little. “Sylvia, I don’t want to give you false hope. This isn’t a break. This isn’t something we’ll fix in time. I’m not coming back.”
The finality in her words was a knife to the chest.
“Then bakit mo pa sinabi na mahal mo ako?” I whispered through clenched teeth. “Para saan pa? Para lang mas masaktan ako?”
“I said it because it’s the truth,” she said. “You deserve to know that you were loved. Deeply. Honestly. You still are. But sometimes love isn’t enough to stay.”
I pressed a hand to my mouth to muffle the sob. My whole body was trembling. “Kung may problema ka, Cynthia… kung may pinagdadaanan ka, sabihin mo. Hindi ko kailangan ng explanation, gusto ko lang malaman na hindi mo ako binura.”
“You weren’t erased,” she said quickly, firmly. “You never will be. You’re the kind of person who stays with someone, even long after they’re gone.”
“Don’t say that…” I whispered. “Please… please don’t talk like you’re already leaving me behind.”
“But I am,” she said.
Just like that.
No hesitation.
And I broke.
“I love you,” she said softly over the phone, her voice barely more than a whisper. It was fragile—like it could break at any second. “That hasn’t changed. It never will.”
There was silence for a moment, just the quiet hum of the line between them.
“You mean everything to me, Sylvia. You always have. But… I can’t be with you. I want to, God, I want to so badly. But I can’t. Not right now."
She took a shaky breath, trying to hold back the tears threatening to escape.
“What I said the last time we talked… I didn’t mean any of it. I need you to know that. You don’t disgust me. You never have. I only said those things to make you hate me. I thought that if you hated me, it would be easier for you to let me go.”
Her voice cracked then, and she had to pause.
“I thought… if I made you angry enough, maybe it would hurt less for both of us. But it was cruel, and I’m sorry. I just… I didn’t know what else to do. I was scared. Scared of dragging you down with me. Scared of how much I needed you.”
The line stayed quiet, but I could feel the silence like a weight pressing on my chest.
“So please,” she whispered, “please just… let me go. Don’t hold on to me. Don’t make this harder than it already is. I love you so much, but I have to do this. I have to go.”
Another long pause. Her voice dropped to a whisper—barely audible.
“If it makes it easier… hate me. Just hate me. But don’t wait for me, Sylvia. Please… don’t wait.”
“Do you really want me to let go of you?” I asked, my voice trembling as I gripped the phone tightly. “Kung bibitawan kita… magiging masaya ka na ba? Will you finally be okay without me?”
There was a pause—just long enough to make my heart race with the faintest hope. But then she spoke. And it shattered me.
“Yes.” Her voice cracked on the line. It was quiet, almost desperate. But it was firm. Final.
I closed my eyes, breathing in her answer like poison. It burned, but I knew I needed to hear it.
“I love you so much, Cynthia,” I said softly, each word carrying a weight that pressed down on my chest.
“Walang minuto, walang oras, araw, o kahit buwan na hindi kita minahal. I loved you in every version of my day, in every corner of my world. Kahit pagod ako, kahit wasak na ako, kahit hindi mo na ako pinapansin… minahal pa rin kita. I was willing to be the fool for you. Kahit gaano kasakit, uulit-ulitin ko, basta ikaw ang kapalit.”
I took a shaky breath, trying to keep the sob from spilling out too soon.
“Sabihin mo lang, Cyn…” my voice broke, “if you ever want me back in your life… if there’s even the smallest space left for me, hindi ako magdadalawang isip. I’ll come running. Kahit gabi pa, kahit umuulan, kahit nasasaktan na ako—babalik ako sa’yo.”
“I never wanted to leave you. Labag sa loob ko ang iwan ka, but if staying only hurts you… and if leaving means you’ll be happy… then I’ll do it. I’ll let you go, kahit ramdam kong babagsak ako pagkatapos.”
There was silence again. No words, no breath—just pain.
Then I added, “I heard you're getting married next week… to Theo. The guy you said you weren’t ready to talk about. Congratulations, Cynthia. I hope he gives you all the things I couldn’t. I really do. I’m happy for you.”
The lie tasted bitter in my mouth.
“Please be happy with him. I’ll be cheering from afar. Even if it breaks me.”
Then, my voice cracked again, almost a whisper.
“And… for one last time… can you greet me?” I bit my lip, trying not to cry again. “It’s my birthday today.”
There was another pause, and for a moment, I wondered if she would say anything. But then, I heard her voice again—barely above a whisper.
“Happy birthday, Sylvia…”
That was it. That was all I needed to hear… and all I could bear to hear.
I ended the call before I could break even more. I didn’t want her to hear me sobbing, even though she probably knew I was already crying the whole time.
And when the line went dead, I let myself fall apart.
The tears came pouring down uncontrollably.
I curled into myself at that same favorite place where I once brought her, where we once laughed like nothing else mattered.
The memories clung to every corner of the space around me—her smile, her voice, her hand in mine.
Now, it was just me.
Drunk, shattered, and alone.
Meeting her was the best thing that ever happened in my life. She lit up my world in ways I never thought possible. For a while, I really believed I was loved. For a while, she made me feel like I mattered.
But I guess happiness doesn’t stay. Not always. Not with me.
‘Til the next time, Cynthia. In the next life, in the next universe—if we meet again, I hope the timing is kinder. I’ll always love you… kahit ilang beses mo pa akong saktan. Kahit ilang beses pa akong iwan. You’ll always be the girl I was willing to break for.