Boracay: almost is never enough…


“There is nothing more beautiful than the way the ocean refuses to stop kissing the shore line, no matter how many times it is sent away.”

And like the ocean, I refuse to stop hoping that one day you will come and kiss me…kiss me like the first time you hit this broken soul.

For the longest time I have built walls around my heart because I couldn’t bear the pain of getting left behind, of being broken, of getting lost. Then you came and bumped on my walls one night in a crowded bar in Boracay called Epic…


Drink with our left hand only! or you get to bottoms up and do push ups!

boracay pubcrawl

Do the Limbo rock ala Boracay Pubcrawl!

I was a mess in the middle of the pumped up floor with broken bottles of beer and shot glasses and a crowd of limbo-rockers oblivious  of what was to come. Someone grabbed my shirt! I was pulled on the side. Surprised by the movement, I stared at your eyes…they were lovely. I couldn’t look at anywhere else, your twinkling eyes seemed to have calmed everything around me into a blur of lights and sound and nauseating movements…then I noticed your smile while you question if it’s really my name…(I wasn’t really comfortable wearing my real name on my bright yellow “Boracay Pubcrawl” shirt so I used some letters that sounded exactly the same as the real one)…We had a chat then I remembered my towers. I gracefully closed out and smiled. See you around…you were gone or I was too closed out that I did not notice that we drifted apart in a slow dance…I don’t know, really.


These babies need some warming up!


So they fired ’em up!

We danced the night away one bar after another…one shooter at a time until we felt like we had enough.  I layed on my bed (wishing it was sand)…I wondered if we would ever see each other again. The thought has invaded the head until it hurts…just like the heart that’s been broken…bleeding eternally it seemed until you came…sadly, this heart isn’t as easy as the rest so you left without a trace, not even your name.

I’d like to say we gave it a try; I’d like to blame it all on life

Maybe we just weren’t right…

Almost, Almost is never enough…

So close to being in-love; 

We almost knew what love was

But almost is never enough…

Almost is never enough as performed by Ariana Grande/Nathan Sykes


Contemplative mood…Boracay Sunset
Shot: Mac Rivera

We gave it a try. I guess we can call what we did a “try“. We were two worlds apart for one. Or…maybe I was just too broken for you to mend. I don’t know. All I know is that we had our moment…one night when the dance floor was nothing but a blur and the booze was our bullets to call the shots.  Sadly, a few shooters and a glass of rum weren’t enough to drown the fear…to break down the walls…or maybe we just weren’t right to begin with…

Almost…yes, our almost was never enough…


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Boracay Pubcrawl – Thanks for the love-leh shots
#bestnightever #turnstrangersintofriends #boracaypubcrawl



‘Good mornings’ and ‘Goodbyes’…

Good morning!

It all started with that smile! That “good morning” I get on my daily trip to the most convenient convenience store for my supply of bottled water. All along I was under the impression that the nice gesture was a standard protocol. Then, I was the only one to get that morning greeting considering there’s a whole bunch of customers coming and going…I don’t want to think I am special but as a courtesy, I make it a point to return the greetings every time with a smile or the same “good morning”…

You were always there every morning. You give me that greeting, that half smile, that genuine niceness. I’m not sure if it was just me or you really mean something more…then again, I am a moth that got lured by the fire…I got burned in the past so I am not kissing the fire again, only because getting burned is just too frightening…

I wasn’t sure if you left…or you just moved so we don’t see each other in the morning. I was holding back when you were here just because I do not want to kiss the fire and be burned. But now that you are gone, I don’t know if I should regret holding myself back…

you were at the back row watching, as always

I missed your “good morning”

I hoped to see you smile

You didn’t

You left without saying “goodbye”

so I kept your “Good Morning”…

It’s been a week or two, I don’t know. I’m getting by without you. but I still stop by. I still look behind the glass doors. I am still hoping to see you someday, if not today…

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How I broke a relationship that never was

adobo solibao

How do you say goodbye to a stranger? 

On the fourth day the sky finally had its fill of empathy for this broken heart. The seemingly eternal downpour dissipated into a morning mist while the golden rays of Mr. Sun broke through the clouds. It was a promising Sunday after days of cold and dampness.

You and I stepped out from the ‘upstairs’   to celebrate the beautiful day. We strolled and found ourselves in the warmth of Our Lady of the Atonement Cathedral. When mass has been offered, we joyfully traced the descending stairs I took alone trying to find myself in the rain the day before. Silence was a commodity we both enjoyed in this journey…lost in our own thoughts…

We reached the landing and you knew where we were going…I, on the other hand was still lost in my reverie…wondering if these moments will ever have to end. You dragged me in the reality and pulled me into the warmth and aroma of a treat called ‘breakfast’. We were inside Solibao Restaurant along Session Road where we had an authentic Ilocos empanada the day before.

We’ve been sharing meals since we met and clicked. We shared music and our thoughts on politics, Ant-Man and that birthday breakfast at Tsokolateria. In Solibao however, like an omen, we had our own separate meal. You had your Baguio longanisa and I had my chicken-pork adobo. 


adobo solibao


As loud as the omen of separate meals, we ate in silence. We were consumed by our thoughts. There was a quiet battle in the heart that threatens to explode and leave us broken. It felt like a time bomb…I took a deep breath, downed the bitter potion and smiled fighting that urge to detonate.

Back ‘upstairs‘ we gave ourselves that much needed space. I stayed in bed while you stepped out. I was at a blank, staring at your bunk, wondering the what-ifs. Then I was reminded that what we have will never bloom no matter how we nurture it with memories to smile at. A stranger who unknowingly tried to fix the broken…but could only ease the pain. A  stranger who could not mend this broken heart…but thank your for trying…

I came broken looking for some reprieve

In solitude I was hoping to fix my soul

Instead, I stumbled upon a heart,

a heart good enough to pick my broken pieces…

but not big enough to mend it

With a pang of sadness, I took a shower and packed my bag. I wasn’t ready to go. I still had a day left to stay. But I was a bomb waiting to explode. I didn’t want you to be a casualty of the mess that I was. Your words were hopeful but I can only give a hollow promise of return…before my eyes become glassy and betray me, I stepped out of the room, checked out and started the long journey to the bus station…

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A Monsoon Affair

“Is romance a part of your travel?” they asked.

I said “No…” then flashed my all-knowing smile.

‘Is it?’ I asked myself a number of times after my vehement denial. I was thinking…rather, hoping to find peace amidst the chaos that was me. Okay, I admit, it was in my head…Just an afterthought…a wishful thinking maybe…

I found myself punching my digits and my email address on his phone. Surprisingly, I never asked his. All I know is his first name…not wanting to know more. 

I was sitting on my bunk opposite yours in a cold early evening in Baguio. I just arrived somewhat wet and cold. The torrential rain felt like an eternity drowning my lonely heart and restless mind. I felt your gaze rather distracting so I fumbled with my phone and pretended to be busy. It didn’t bother you.  You asked for my name amidst the awkwardness of the silence between us…our eyes said the unspoken…Then I was left in the company of my weary thoughts, baffled by your candor.

The warmth of the bed was comforting…body was tired as much as the soul that I went to lala land in minutes leaving the mortal world to fend for itself.

Friday morning but the sun was nowhere to be found. The monsoon rain was on a roll, not giving any hint of pause or reprieve. It was late afternoon yet it felt like early winter morning. I can’t believe I was still in bed curled in a ball under my warm blanket. My eyes darted a glance at you. You smiled and asked if I was in the mood for lunch. There was something that makes it hard to deny you of any answer…especially a “No”.

Your company was refreshing. I’ve stayed in some backpackers’ hostels and slept with all sorts of people imaginable, but I have never felt the connection I had with you…your easy going frame of mind with oozing positiveness and carelessness at the same time was a breath of fresh air!

The monsoon rain did not dampen our mood as we gallivant down Session Road.  We shared meals while we respect our private moments in silence. You offered to share your umbrella to keep me dry from the rain as we hop from one restaurant to another.

In the three nights we shared, we rocked the room ‘upstairs‘. Like the rain, we poured ourselves in sync with the pitter-patter on the roof. In some unknown climax only the clouds knew, in some brief moments of silence, I wanted to look at you and just think about the possibilities. But reality bites like the coldness of the weather nipping on my sun-kissed skin. We knew there’s nothing to connect us more than what we have then. And in the same silence, my heart conceded to the unspoken truth…

There was no romance.

There was no peace.

There was no order in the chaos that was me.

only a monsoon affair…

three nights in the cold and damp Baguio City

with a stranger who made me feel whole and at peace. 

The sun finally seized it’s day that Sunday. We went to Church to renew our faith and had our last meal together. I didn’t want to leave. You were hopeful that I don’t get to go…but circumstances have called the inevitable. I left…with only a hollow promise of return.

Just as I was hopeful, I was cautious. For the heart that’s already broken refused to kiss the flame in the fear of getting burned.

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Feature photo grabbed from