Sunday, August 29, 2010


Between a mother who still doesn’t trust me enough to make my own decisions,

an estranged father who demands a lot from me,

a boss who has expectations that I could barely meet,

a friend who has a serious illness that only I know about,

and an ex whose trust I must win back,

I’m starting to give out. I’m not mature enough to deal with all of these at the same time. I thought I was, but alas, I’m still just a kid. One who is being forced to grow up.

But it’s my life, and these are what I must deal with. I have to tackle them head-on and beat them. Alone.

I know it will all be worth it.

Friday, August 27, 2010

Come Out

Just in case there are still some of you who haven't heard:

If you're gay and you have a story to tell, go ahead and join.

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Sablay Talaga Eh

Ipagtatanggol ko pa naman sana ang mga Pinoy sa
post ni McVie. Ok naman na kaya pa rin nating tumawa pagkatapos ng isang trahedya. Ok din na mabilis tayo maka move on.

Pero putangina, wag naman sanang magpapicture sa harap nung bus habang naka pose pa at nakangiti.

Nakakagago na eh. Ang eepal ng mga putangina.

Kakakita ko lang nung pics sa FB.
Ipopost ko sana dito kaso baka makita pa ng kung sino at maka contribute pa ako sa paglala ng sitwasyon.

Utang na loob naman, mga kababayan.

Top 10: Geek

Picking up from Engel, Desole Boy and Soltero, and joining the Top N bandwagon.

I had always known that I was a bit geeky or nerdy. I try my best to hide my geeky tendencies, if only to avoid making people uncomfortable around me, but there are times when it just brims over. When that happens, well, what else can I do but own up to it? Lol. Geeks are cute. =P

Top Ten Instances That Outed The Geek/Nerd In Me

When my officemate said "Wow, may eclipse na!", I thought she was talking about the Java IDE.

When I was trying to scare a cat in our apartment, I started to shout, "Hado no-!". Luckily, I stopped myself. I was about to shout a Bleach destruction spell at the cat.

My orgmates were laughing at the phrase "Non-human primates" because according to them "Ang effort naman." I defended it and said, "Tama naman ah. Set of primates minus set of humans, diba?"

Back in high school, my friend and I went to the library every lunch time, stood in front of the giant world map and memorized the capitals. Our reason: we had nothing else to do.

When I heard this line from Apologize: "I loved you with a fire red, now it's turning blue", my reaction was "Diba mas mainit ang apoy pag blue kesa pag red? So uminit lalo love niya?"

Honey, my best friend at work, once showed me this picture and tried to fool me by saying that it was a newly-discovered fish with legs. I answered right away, "Honey, hindi isda yan. Axolotl yan, isang amphibian."

I was playing taboo with one geek friend and a few other non-geeks. The topic was countries and it was geek friend's turn. He read the mystery word and said, "An arid country with giant polyhedrons." Everyone fell silent. Except me. I excitedly shouted, "Egypt!"

I still know the old three o' clock habit prayer. Yes, including the bit after the prayer, until "..and at the hour of death I will not be judge for them but the merciful saviour." I watched TV that much when I was a kid.

I used the word "petiole" when I tried to explain how to make a bubble solution from Gumamela flowers.

My high school was a haven for nerds. There was one time when our chemistry teacher asked us what the properties of this certain liquid were and I joked, "Malleable." Everyone laughed. Then my teacher joked back, "Yes, and it is also ductile, right?"

And here's a nerd joke:

What weapon is made when you combine potassium, nickel and iron?

Let's see who answers this one correctly. Fellow nerds, reveal yourselves! =P

Monday, August 23, 2010

Ampalaya 11

I’m sparing you guys from my ex dramas for now. I don’t want this blog to be uber emo, lest everyone, including me, gags from all the bitterness. So at least for now, I’ll treat you guys to a different flavour, bitterness though of a different sort.

There was a time during my early college years when my friends and I traded emo love quotes through text. I’m not really sure how or why that started; maybe we just happened to be dealing with love issues at the same time. (Wait, come to think of it, we were always dealing with love problems.) We all pretended to laugh scornfully at the messages, but we were all secretly obsessed with finding the perfect quote that would fit us. Anyway, I saved my favourites in a folder, aptly named “Ampalaya”, and I just discovered this morning that I still had that folder in my phone. It was funny reading those messages again. I remembered how “ampalaya” – and yes, how jologs – we were those days.

So I’m spreading the love. There might be some bits here that can sum up what your inner college freshman’s heart is going through, or they might remind you of how we fumbled with love when we were younger. Or, most likely, you might just laugh or get annoyed by their sheer absurdity.

You’re so kind, so kind I can’t bear it
Don’t touch me. Don’t call my name in that voice.
Don’t be kind when you don’t actually feel a thing for me.

Why must you torture me? Why must you keep me hanging?
Tell me, what exactly am I to you?
A lover?
A brother?
A friend?
Just a man standing at your side?

How could you possibly know that things will work you between you and someone?
Well, the thing is you couldn’t.
You don’t know, and you can never be sure. But you take the plunge anyway.
Sure is for people who don’t love enough.

You don’t want to be happy, you’re a drama junkie.
When there’s no drama, you create it.
When the dust settles, you kick up some more because you don’t know how to just be happy.
-Desperate Housewives

Why do you always have to be so tough?
Why are you so scared of letting anyone see you break apart?
You don’t need to be strong all the time.
Let me in, break if you must. Fall to pieces in my arms.
I’ll put you back together when it’s all over. I won’t let you stay broken.

I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry about what I did.
But it happened.
As much as I want to take it back, to undo it, I can’t.
What you and I have is real. It’s love.
But if that’s not worth you even making an effort to forgive me, then there’s nothing I can do.
And there’s nothing left to say except
I love you, but I can’t beg forever.

What’s the hardest part in ending a relationship?
Not the feeling of letting go.
Not the part of goodbye.
But going through every damn day
And having to remember it.

People spend a lifetime looking for love, wanting it, needing it, seeking it, and most of the time they don’t find it.
But once in a while, once in a great while, it comes to you.
It throws itself in your lap, pounds on your door and says, “Here I am, take me, I’m yours!”
When it comes, how can you turn away from it?
How can you say, “Not now, maybe later”?
How can you not take that chance, knowing the opportunity may never come again?
- A Perfect Stranger

Nasaktan ako nung iniwan mo ako.
Nasaktan ako nung sumama ka sa kanya at nung sinabi mong mahal mo siya.
Pero pinakamasakit nung sinabi mong
“Sorry, akala ko kasi mahal kita.”

Paano mo malalaman kung mahal ka niya?
Simple lang: tumalon ka tapos isigaw mong mahal mo siya.
Pero pag di siya dumating, wag kang mag-alala.
Ano bang silbi ko?
Diba taga salo pag wala siya?

The things we do for love:
How we are always there when they need us.
How we wait for them to call when they’re not around.
How we laugh at the silliest jokes and smile at the littlest compliments.
How we try to make them laugh when they’re sad.
How we take care of everything they need.
How we let them kiss us without asking.
How we let them stay without knowing how long they’re going to stay.
How we hug them so tightly as if we can keep them.
How we stumble.
How we fall.
The things that we do for love.
They’re always, always not enough.


Friday, August 20, 2010


You were not supposed to read my posts, but you did. I know you’ll read this one too.

You said you were hurt when you read one of my recent posts, that you felt like you were just my back up plan if I failed to get a date. That’s not true. I continued seeing you because I’m still happiest when I’m with you. You have always been my first choice.

Remember when I texted you while I was drunk? Yeah, you guessed right: I was drunk that night. It’s strange; I shouldn’t have remembered you at all. After all, I was drinking with my mom. That itself should have been distracting enough. But I remembered you, and how none of the dates I had even came close to you. It was frustrating. I was trying to look for someone who can make me forget about you, but they all just ended up reminding me how stupid I was for letting you go.

When you asked me why I wanted to be your boyfriend again, I was unable to give you a good answer. I tried, I’m sure you can tell by the way I stuttered, but my answer was probably insanely stupid because I don’t even remember what it was. I just remembered saying that I had been yearning to get back with you for a long time. You were not satisfied with that, and you left.

It was my HIV test ordeal, actually, that made me realize that you’re still the one I want to be with. It started the night after my failed attempt to get tested. I was scared that I might be dying. While I thought of my possibly impending death, thoughts of you relentlessly invaded my mind. And I realized that I didn’t want to die yet, and that it was because I still wanted to spend my years with you.

I was overjoyed when I received my test results the next day, because it meant that I had another chance at life, another chance to sort my life out. I wanted to start with you. I knew I had hurt you a lot and I wanted to make up for it. I wanted you back. I wanted to be the boyfriend that you deserved. I wanted to be that guy again.

You were already doubtful from the start, but even more so when you read about Luis in a recent post. You asked me why I still planned on dating him after everything I told you. My answer was, “I was only going to date him if you turned me down.”

I was an ass. I’m sorry.

Yeah, you probably won’t accept that apology anymore. Heck, you probably won’t even listen to anything I’ll say, or you might listen but you won’t care. I guess I deserve that.

I didn’t realize how angry you were at me until I read your entry this morning. I knew you wanted to hurt me. That’s what you do when you get mad. You punch me in the shoulder, you pound at my chest, you bite my arm until it bruises. Reading you entry was no different. I felt every blow.

I’m not sure if you will really do what you said you would do. You seemed dead serious, but I’m still hoping you won’t do it. I know we’re just bitter exes now, but I hope you’ll somehow remember that we were once lovers, and that our happiest days were with each other.

My first love letter was for you.

So was my first bouquet of roses.

Remember how I gave you flowers in front of all your friends on our second Valentine’s Day? That’s easily one of the happiest nights of my life.

You were the only guy I introduced to my friends as my boyfriend, and I think I was the first guy who did that to you.

I remember those afternoons we spent playing Pokemon. We only paused to eat. Our favorite merienda was RC and butterfly bread.

There was one time when I heard you absently chanting “Luncheon meat! Luncheon meat! Gusto ko ng luncheon meat!” so I bought a can for you. You were surprised how I knew that you were craving for it.

Whenever I went outside to smoke, you always went with me, even if you didn’t smoke. You said you just wanted to be at my side.

Funny, I’m not a guy who cries, you know that, but I can’t hold back my tears right now. I guess you’re still my weakness, after all. You were the first guy I truly loved. And I still love you.

I love you. I still love you. I never stopped loving you. I wish there was a way I can make you believe again.

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Stressed Si Kuya

Perhaps you guys can help this fellow out:

He’s been having some relationship problems lately. I really want to help but I don’t exactly make a credible counselor in that area. =P

Monday, August 16, 2010

Date Life

I have dated several guys since ex and I broke up. Dating was one of the things I missed the most while I was in a relationship. I love getting to know people. I love making new friends. And yeah, I enjoy flirting. It’s the uncertainty that draws me to the whole dating game. You’ll never know which of the preconceived ideas you have about your date will turn out to be correct. You’re also not sure if the date will be the start of a good thing or if it will be a disaster.

One of the downsides of dating for me is, no matter how much I try not to, I still end up baring a small piece of my heart. I don’t go to dates because I’m looking for a boyfriend, not at all. But that doesn’t keep a small part of me from somehow hoping good things. That small exposed bit leaves me vulnerable, and if my date discovers where that piece is, then I am screwed. But that’s part of the thrill, and the gamble will be worth it if the date goes well. it was definitely worth it when I dated my ex.

But the thing is, most of my dates lately we more nightmare than magic. I don’t know why, but I seem to have rotten luck with the guys I get.

Mr. Long Term

First, I had guys who were looking, no, craving for a long term relationship. I’m sure you know the type; the one who talks about settling down and building a home together on your first date. While it’s a good thing to know that the guy is not just after sex, it’s a turn off seeing that he wants to rush into a relationship, as if there’s a deadline that he must beat. Maybe he was just trying to come off as a keeper or maybe he was trying to show me that he was really into me. I don’t know, for me it was just plain creepy.

There was one guy who I actually had quite a pleasant dinner with. I texted him when I got home, “Hey, I had a great time. I look forward to knowing you better.”

His reply: “Me too. I hope our relationship blossoms. And I hope we have God at the center of that relationship.”

Mr. Quickie

The opposite of the first type is just as frustrating. You meet the guy, you have good conversation, and you are pleased to see that he has a good amount of substance. Then he talks about fucking halfway into your date. At first you find it a turn on that he has a naughty side and you jokingly throw back naughty comments yourself. But he brings it up again not long after. You try to change the topic but he persistently brings it up over and over until it gets annoying.

At that point, you have no choice but to flat out decline. He gets the point, backs off, and you carry on with your date. You almost enjoy the rest of the date, but you remember that the guy treated you like a desperate slut.

Mr. Quickie In Disguise

Then there were those who I initially thought had great potential. I go out with the guy on a few dates and we have an amazing time together. He seems interested in a relationship, but unlike Mr Long Term, he’s not desperate for it. And he has the right amount of naughty without Mr Quickie’s depravity.

After our fourth or fifth date, he invites me to his place. I go with him and we have great sex. We kiss before I leave.

Then he doesn’t reply to any of my texts.

I mean, come on. If he had told me at the start that he was just after sex, then we could have gone straight to it. We would have been spared the weeks of pointless charades. I don’t mind meeting up for sex. It just has to be clear that that’s what we were going to meet for.

Mr. Gamer

Lastly, there’s the type who treats dating like a contest. For him, there are rules that must be followed at all costs. He should not be the first to text; neither should he be the last. He will never ask you out for a date, you should be the one to ask him out. If he is ever going to ask you out, it will be spontaneous, so it will seem like he just thought of you that moment.

Basically, his goal is to make you fall for him without you noticing that he actually likes you too. Now I know that it’s called the “dating game”, but actually playing by those rules is pathetic. What’s there to gain from pretending that you like or don’t like a person, anyway? Try to play a game with me and you’ll find yourself playing alone.

Of course, they were not all bad. There were a few guys who were actually great. They were not boyfriend material (like I said, I’m not looking for a boyfriend to begin with), but they became my friends.

Just recently, one of my girl friends texted me.

“Jason, interesado ka pa bang makipag date kay Luis?”

“Oo. Bakit, ipapadate mo sakin?”

“Yah. Hehe.”

“Bakit mo bigla akong nirereto dun? Ano nangyari?”

“Kinumusta ka niya sa akin kanina. Type ka din pala niya. Mukha ka daw straight. Gimik daw ulit tayo pagbalik niya dito sa Sept.”

September daw. Ito ba yung tinatawag nilang booking? Lol.

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Ang Resulta

Di din ako nakapagpigil. Tinuloy ko pa din kanina.

*Kelangan itago yung header para hindi malagay sa alanganin yung clinic. Baka daw kasi isipin na pinagkakalat nila yung resulta.

Monday, August 9, 2010

Trying To Get Tested

My housemate overslept and didn’t go work today. I, on the other hand, had Monday as one of my rest days. We were bumming in the apartment when the idea of getting tested for HIV came up. We have both wanted to get tested for some time now, so we decided to go through with it.

We searched online for clinics that provided free HIV testing. We found one and housemate called the contact number posted. The guy who answered confirmed that the test was indeed free and said that the clinic closes at 4pm. There was a little confusion when they talked about how to get to the clinic.

Contact: Pasok ka tapos derecho ka sa dulo. Tapos kaliwa. Pangalawang pintuan after ng CR.
Housemate: Ano ulit?
Contact: Meron ka bang bolpen?
Housemate: Um, may kasama ako mamaya. Pero friends lang kami.
Contact: Bolpen, ipapasulat ko sayo yung directions.
Housemate: Ah. Teka...

Then there was the issue of codenames.

Me: Um.. Jason na lang ulit ako.
Housemate: Gawin nating “Jaeson” para maarte. Tapos ako si.. “Jaeden”.
Me: Sige, tapos gamitin mo real surname mo. “Jaeden Ku”.
Housemate: Ay pakshet oo nga. Jovit na lang ako.
Me: Sige tapos ako si Charice. Like a pyramid, yeah.

We eventually still settled with our real nicknames.

But our light disposition quickly faded once we got into a cab and began the long travel to the clinic. We both started to realize the full weight of what we were about to do. The future will only be either black or white for us. We either get a second shot at life or our ten-year countdown starts.

I’m pretty low-risk. I’ve gone all the way with only three guys. But they were all unprotected. And two of them were strangers who were obviously very promiscuous. I was worried that I would be another one of life’s ironies. The boy with HIV who has only had sex three times.

I tried to think of what I was going to do if the results turned positive. I really wasn’t sure. I probably won’t tell my mom because she already has enough on her mind. Heck, I probably won’t tell anyone at all. On second thought, I might have to tell those people I directly interact with everyday. Maybe it’s their right to know. But I can’t possibly tell the people at work because I’d be risking my job. And I’m going to need the money for meds.

Then there was the thought of having only ten more years to live. We all die, I know that. But it’s different when you know when your deadline is. How do you prepare yourself for impending death? How do you live knowing that in ten years a simple cold can take everything away?

And the regret. How do you get over the regret?

In the end, I still wasn’t able to answer any of my questions. I just hoped that the clinic had a really good counselling program.

After forty very long minutes, we were finally at the place. I had already psyched myself somehow. We quietly walked to the room. We paused in front of the door for a few seconds. Then housemate grabbed the doorknob and slowly opened the door.

We were greeted by a lady. She asked what we were there for. We told her that we wanted to be tested for HIV. She frowned and said that tests are done by appointment. Walk-ins are not entertained unless they arrive early and there are no appointments for that day. We told her that we contacted someone from the website. She answered that the contact probably thought we were scheduling for tomorrow.

To make it short, we did not get tested. I was devastated. It was the first time I actually built enough courage to have myself tested. I went through the forty minutes of mental torture on my way to the clinic. And it was all for nothing.

I can’t go through all of that again. It’s too much to deal with, considering that the risk for me is very low anyway. Three times, come on. And someone told me recently that tops are not that prone. That makes the probability that I have HIV ridiculously low.

I’m holding on to that low probability. I’ve already tried knowing for sure but it didn’t happen. I’m not going to try again.

Call me childish or immature, but I just can’t go through all of that another time.

Sunday, August 8, 2010

Small World

I was at the restroom of the commercial building just outside campus, minding my own business at the urinal. Halfway into it, a guy took the urinal beside mine. I didn’t pay attention to him at first, but then he started making strange noises. I soon realized that he was moaning. I looked at him and found him staring at me while stroking his thing, using his knapsack to somehow hide what he was doing. I panicked. I hurriedly went out of the restroom. When I looked back, I saw that Pervy guy was following me. I almost ran out of the building.

I later told this story to one of my friends. He quickly said that he had been victimized by Pervy guy as well. I thought this was unlikely, and that it was probably a different perv. He kept insisting that it was the same guy, but I was convinced that it wasn’t. Then he asked me if Pervy guy had knapsack.


Shawn and I were sitting on our school grounds with our orgmates. We were members of a student organization for nerds. It was February, and we were waiting for our president, Randy, to come so we can start setting up our booth for the fair. While waiting, I asked him how he and his boyfriend were. He said that things were not going well, and that the reason he’s been active in our org lately was because his boyfriend was asking for space.

Randy finally came after half an hour. He apologized for taking so long, explaining that he saw a cute guy in the jeepney and that he just had to get the guy’s number. He succeeded, and he spent the whole afternoon bragging that he already had a date for Valentine’s.

A few weeks later, Shawn came to my apartment. He was crying as he told me that his boyfriend broke up with him a few days before. He said that it was the first time he cried over the breakup. When I asked why they broke up, he said that it was because of a guy. I asked who the guy was. It was Randy’s jeepney guy.


A couple of days into our trial week, I mentioned to Dainn that I was a member of the Nerd Org. He said that he knew someone from our org. When I asked who, he said it was Shawn. He said that they were housemates.

I started to suspect. I didn’t want to think about it at first, but the urge to know was just too strong. I had to be sure. I texted Shawn. I got my confirmation with his reply.

His ex’s name is Dainn.


Dainn explained to me that he did not leave Shawn for Randy’s jeepney guy. He just got attracted to him. But the fact that he was already getting attracted to others guys made him realize that he no longer loved Shawn. That was why he decided to break up with him.

I finally got to see who jeepney guy was one day. Dainn and I were at school, waiting for his next class when he pointed at a guy. I was shocked for a moment. Then I couldn’t help laughing.

It was Pervy guy.

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Love Story

My best friend and I were studying in my apartment, or at least we were trying to. It was our first long exam for Computer Science 150, one of the break or break courses in our curriculum. “Numerical and Symbolic Computation”, what the hell does that even mean? We spent a good four hours trying to figure out what the things in our lecture slides meant before we finally gave up. There was only one thing left to do before we went to the impending doom that was our exam: take a bath and dress up. We had this principle that if we were going to plunge into a sure-fail exam, we might as well fail beautifully.

I got out of the bathroom after thirty minutes of showering and scrubbing. I was going to enter my room when I heard an unfamiliar girl’s voice from inside. Being the gentleman that I was, I thought for a minute if I should go inside with nothing on but a towel around my waist. I opened the door slowly and peeked. Inside was my roommate Edward and another guy, but there was no girl.

“Oh hey,” Edward said when he saw me. He must have noticed me staring at the guy because he suddenly added “This is my friend. I invited him over since there’s no one else in his apartment.”

“Hi,” said the guy. I realized that the girl’s voice that I heard earlier was actually his.

“Hey,” I greeted back. I looked at him for a moment. Yeah, I was trying to check him out. But being terribly near-sighted, I could only tell that there was a possibility that he was cute.

I took some clothes from the closet and went back outside to change. I can still hear them talking inside. Man, that guy really sounded like a girl. After I finished changing, I went off to the exam. While I was walking to school, I texted Edward to ask what his friend’s name was. His reply was “Bakit? Ikaw ha. Hehe.” Damn it, why don’t I know how to not be too obvious?

After the exam, my housemates and I decided to watch a horror movie. I suddenly remembered what Edward said about his friend being alone in his apartment so I told him to invite his friend over so I could have a better look at him.

“Wait, I don’t have any prepaid load anymore,” Edward said after a few failed texts.

I quickly handed him my phone. “Here, use mine.” Yeah, that’s how I got the friend’s number.

His friend did not come though. Apparently, he was already too tired. I was quite disappointed at first, but I realized later on that it may actually have been a good thing because I screamed my lungs out while watching the movie. That would have been a total turn-off.

The next day, I was staring at the friend’s number trying to think of what to say to him when I received a text. From him. I swear I felt like doing cartwheels. It was just a forwarded message with a “Good afternoon” in the end, but it was enough to give me the rush of ten cups of coffee.

I replied, “Good afternoon din. Pero hindi na si Edward to. Si Jason to, yung roommate niya.”

One message received. “Ah ganun ba? Sige, sorry po.”

My heart fell. I was about to stand in the corner and bang my head on the wall when I received another text.

“Joke lang. Alam kong ikaw yan. Hehe.”

And that was the start of three hours of text flirting. I was grinning the entire time. The scene was so high school, I know. Eventually, I invited him to meet up and he agreed.

We met that night. I went to his apartment to fetch him. I waited for him outside the gate, taking long drags from my cigarette to try and calm my nerves. And then he came out. I got a long look at his face while he was walking towards me. Possibly cute? No, definitely cute.

“Where will we go?” I asked him.

“I don’t know. You asked me out, remember?”

Smooth move, Jason.

We ended up going to one of the nearby coffee shops. I don’t really remember whose idea it was to go there, but I hope it was mine. We ordered coffee and started to talk. Being the incredibly talented conversationalist that I was, I talked about the only topic that I was sure we both knew about: Edward.

Yep, really smooth.

And to make it even worse, there were a lot of times when I blanked out. Awkward silences, crickets. But I blame that on his cuteness. He just looked so damn good that instead of listening to him, half the time I was just staring at him. Halfway into our date and I still could not believe that I was with someone as gorgeous as him.

After a couple more hours of my futile attempts to impress him, I finally gave up. I walked him to his apartment, said goodbye and started to walk home, feeling utterly dejected. Then I got a text from him.

“Ingat pauwi. I had fun tonight.”

And I was happy once again. I replied, “Thanks. Ako din. Ano na ginagawa mo?”

“Eto, nakahiga. Sinusubukang magpaantok pero high pa din.”

“High? Saan?”


Cartwheels, part two. With backflips this time.

We met again the next day. We both really liked each other, but we also both felt that things were happening a bit too fast. We decided to go out for a week, something like a dry run. If we still liked each other after the week has passed, then we would make it official.

And so we were trial boyfriends for a week. I walked with him to his classes, waited for him outside his classroom when his classes were about to end, and walked back home with him. We ate together. I carried the food tray and got water for us while he took spoons, forks and table napkins. And at night, we took long walks around the campus, talking about anything we can think of. Every day, I learned a bit more about him. And every day I grew to like him even more.

We were in my apartment on the last night of our trial week. We had just come from another one of our walks around campus. We were lying on the bed, hands held and with his head on my shoulder. We were talking about what would happen if we became boyfriends. It was already past twelve when we remembered to look at the clock. The trial week had ended.

I looked at him. “Ayan, tapos na yung one week. Tayo na ba?”

He looked up at me and smiled. “Oo, tayo na.”

And we kissed for the first time.

Today was going to be our third anniversary.