Wednesday, April 29, 2015


Things are about to get a lot cheesy and bitter here. You have been warned.

I have a lot of things I wanna get off my chest here regarding someone that I used to consider as a friend.

I met you in summer classes in 2011 because I failed a geography subject. I didn't even notice you at first. I wanted to be with my friends during the summer. A word nor a glance was never exchanged between us because why would we talk to each other anyway? It's not like we have anything in common.

Had I actually passed that geography course, we wouldn't have met, and I'd be better off but hey, this isn't Bioshock Infinite.

Somehow, our first conversation was odd, if I could remember the details. All I remember is that you asked for my phone number and, stupidly enough, I gave it to you. I walked you to the bus stop to where you were going and I didn't bother thinking twice about it.

I was getting a haircut that same day when you sent me a text. I wish I kept that message after all this time.

I somehow, stupidly, started to like you. I don't know why. Was it your smile? Of course. Was it your cheerful personality? Of course. Was I stupid? DEFINITELY. And I regret every single minute of meeting you. I regret ever talking to you. I regret every ounce of effort I wasted on you. The text messages. The worry. The convincing. Yeah, I had to convince you to continue your studies. Because I liked you. You were great. You were my friend. I wanted to be there for you. I wanted to love you, god willing!

Now, we're nothing to each other. I loved hearing from you but you hated me. You loathed me. You hated hearing from me. When I visited the Philippines, the first thing I did was call you. You hated it.

Then I found out your foot got amputated. You didn't tell me, of course. I had to find out by myself. When I finally saw the picture of you with one foot left, I didn't feel anything. No sympathy. No empathy. No remorse. You didn't need it from me. Hell, you didn't want it from me. No, I'm not happy that you lost your foot. No, I'm not happy that you suffered. I am happy that we're nothing to each other. Not friends. Not classmates. Not even in the same country.

After all this time, I wanted to always be there for you. Your friend. Your confidant. For four years, I wanted that but it was all just 4 years wasted. You didn't need me. I didn't need you. So why did I bother, right?

And I won't bother again.

You were a friend but you were my waste of time.