mayoayonnaise

[mayoayonnaise]

I’m sitting here in the dark, surrounded by the silence that echoes the emptiness in my heart. there’s this ache in my chest that just won’t go away. it feels like a burden that has been with me ever since you left. you left me in this lonely place after stealing all of the affection. I keep thinking about all the things we used to do, all the memories we shared. you used to gaze at me as if I were the only person in the world, and you used to hold me. remember when we used to laugh until our sides hurt? those moments are like shards of glass now, cutting into me every time they flash through my mind.

our promises were like a lovely balloon that you simply let float in the sky away. I was so naive to think that the relationship that we had would actually last. all you left me with was a broken heart after stealing all the love. I’m left to pick up the shards of a broken relationship after you simply went without giving me another look. everywhere I look, I see reminders of you. the places we used to go, the songs we used to listen to, the foods we used to eat together— it’s like you’re haunting me. how come it’s so hard to move forward now? how am I supposed to let go of you when everything reminds me of you?

I keep asking myself what I did wrong. what could I have done differently to make you stay? would you even stay if I actually did things differently? my heart hurts even more when I see couples smiling and holding hands on the street— that used to be us, babe. but now? what did you turn me into? I’m alone with this pain. and I bet you’re not even thinking about me anymore. I keep replaying our last conversation in my head, looking for some sign that I missed, some hint that you were going to do this to me. and I’m hoping that maybe, maybe it’s not really my fault. that maybe you really just got tired, and that I don’t have to keep blaming myself that you left me. but I know it’s not my fault. you were the one who decided to leave, you were the one who took all the love and threw it away as if it was nothing. yet why am I the one suffering?

I know I should be angry with you, but I just can’t. all I feel is sadness and pain. I miss you so damn much, and it hurts— it’s a fucking torture. I wish I could turn back time and make things right. but I know it’s too late to even do anything. you’re gone, you left me, and I have to learn to live without you. so, I’ll just keep this pain inside me. I’ll keep it hidden away where no one can see it. and maybe, one day, it will go away. maybe one day, I won’t have to think about you when love comes my way. it will be painful for sure, you were my everything afterall, did you know? you made me feel so damn special. you may have taken all the love away, but memories will stay with me, and that will serve as my lesson as well as greatest memories.

in the end, love is still the most powerful force in the universe, and it has the ability to heal even the deepest wounds.

[mayoayonnaise]

every now and then, I find myself longing for a place where the noise and chaos of the world fades away, and all that's left is a sense of peace and tranquility. I dream of finding a haven where I can escape the hustle and bustle of everyday life and just be myself, free from judgement and expectations. I dream of finding my own personal safe space, a place where I can feel safe and happy, surrounded by people who accept me for who I am.

for years, I had been searching for someone to share my vulnerabilities and fears with. I had resigned myself to loneliness, believing that no one could truly understand and accept me for who I am. then, I met her. she was everything I had been looking for— smart, strong, and unafraid to speak her mind, no matter how strange or eccentric her words may be. she just had a way of brightening up any room she entered, with her infectious energy and her unwavering sense of self-confidence. but more than that, she made me feel comfortable, like I could finally let my guard down and be myself around her, without fear of judgment or rejection. it wasn't just that she was attractive— although she was, it was that she possessed a kind of inner beauty that drew me to her like a magnet.

and as the days went by, my feelings for her only grew. I found myself yearning to be around her, to hear her voice, to bask in her presence. even the little things, like the quirky way she would sometimes trip over her own words or lose track of her thoughts, only served to make her more endearing to me.

and yet, despite my growing feelings for her, I couldn't shake off the sense of sadness and loneliness that had hung over me for so long. no one else seemed to understand me like she did, and I found myself complaining to her about how hard I found it to be vulnerable around anyone else. it was as if my life had been a series of endless struggles, with no one to share the burden of my fears and insecurities with. I told her how I had always felt like an outsider, like I never quite fit in with anyone. I spoke of the loneliness and isolation that had plagued me, and of the longing I had for human connection. she listened patiently, her eyes never leaving mine, and I could see the compassion and understanding in her gaze.

the more I talked, the more I found myself opening up to her, letting her see the parts of me that I had kept hidden for so long. it was like a dam bursting, and I found myself pouring out all my fears and insecurities, all my pain and longing, in a torrent of words that I couldn't stop if I tried. I want her to feel me, I want to be with... her.

[mayoayonnaise]

tanda ko pa kung paano ako magmakaawa sa dati kong kasintahan dahil gustong-gusto ko talagang maramdaman kung paano mahalin. naalala ko pa kung paano ko ipagpilitan ang sarili ko, kung paano ko ipagsiksikan ang sarili ko sa puso niyang hindi man lang niya binubuksan para sa akin. alam kong mali ang mga ginagawa ko noon, pero ano nga ba ang magagawa ko kung ganoon talaga akong tao? ngunit noong nawala siya sa’kin, napagtanto kong hindi ko man lang inisip ang sarili ko dahil sa pamimilit ko sa sarili ko para lang mahalin niya ako.

ngunit ngayon, habang ako’y iyong niyayakap nang mahigpit, binubulong sa akin kung paano mo ako pipiliin araw-araw kahit pa sa kalagitnaan ng bagyo at gulo, binubulong sa akin kung bakit ako ang pinili mo— napagtanto kong ganito pala ang pakiramdam kapag ika’y minamahal. tila ba kilala mo na ako magmula pa noon, tulad na lamang kung paano mo sagutin ang mga taong nagtatanong tungkol sa akin, at lahat ay tama na tila ba kilala mo na ako buong buhay mo. oh, kay sarap naman ng ganitong pagmamahal.

simula noong nakapasok ka sa aking puso na may pader na kasing taas ng mga palasyo ay takot na akong mawala ka. paano ba naman? ginawa mo ang lahat para lamang makapasok sa buhay ko. hindi ko na ginustong mawala ka pa sa tabi ko. kahit ang isip batang ako ay lumabas nang dahil sa’yo. tila ba simula noong nakilala kita, ikaw ay naging piyesa ng aking katawan na hanggang ngayon ay hindi maalis-alis, o mapalitan. naalala ko pa kung paano ka magdasal gabi-gabi, hinihiling na sana'y hindi ako mawala sa iyong tabi. naalala ko rin kung paano ka mangako sa akin noong baguhan pa lamang tayo sa relasyon na hinding-hindi ka mapapagod na mahalin ako, na piliin ako araw-araw. at hanggang ngayon ay hindi ka pa rin talaga napapagod na ako'y piliin at mahalin sa bawat araw na lumilipas.

parang dati lamang ay hinihiling ko na ako’y hanap-hanapin din, habulin tulad nang paghabol ko sa mga minsan kong nagustuhan, at magkaroon ng taong mag-aalala kapag may ginawa akong hindi ko naman ginagawa madalas, o kahit kapag ako’y hindi nagparamdam ng ilang oras o araw. ngayon ay nararanasan ko na ang lahat kasama ka. bawat bagay na gusto ko ay napapansin mo, at ginagawa mo ang lahat para lamang maiparanas sa akin ang mga ito. sinasanay mo ako na nariyan ka lamang para sa akin, na ika’y hindi maglalaho sa aking buhay na tila ba isang bula na inakit lamang ako at biglang nawala.

maaari bang dito ka na lang habang buhay? alam kong hindi maaaring ika’y aking pilitin upang piliin ako at manatili ka lamang sa tabi ko, ngunit kung sakaling ika’y tinalikuran ng mga taong pinili mo— sana'y alam mong narito ako, naghihintay para sa iyo. hindi ako bibitaw, at hindi rin ako mawawala. kaya kung maaari ay dito ka na lang sa aking tabi habang buhay. sa bawat ngiti, bawat luha, bawat pikit, bawat hangin na tinatanggap, at bawat buga— ako’y narito lamang upang tanggapin ka, mahalin ka. sa bawat piyesang ikaw, ay aking iingatan.

[mayoayonnaise]

I often get the urge to disappear from everyone without a trace. Well, it’s not that I don't enjoy the company of people around me, but there are moments when the weight of the world becomes too much for me to carry, to handle, and all I want is to be on my own. Self-isolation has always been my coping mechanism. There is something strangely comforting about the idea of disappearing. It’s not about me running away; rather, it’s about finding a quiet place where I can simply be myself, and feel peaceful.

In those moments where I have disappeared, I long to ignore everyone and everything around me. And that is my own way of escaping into my own little world. It’s my way to protect my precious heart, my sanity, and maintain my emotional well-being. Well, disappearing is my way to reclaim my peace of mind in a world that constantly demands my attention and drown me with the chaos.

People often ask me, why do I always disappear out of the blue? As if I have nothing to be concerned about, people to care about? When I disappear, I can feel the moment to be myself, I have the freedom to do as I please without a care in the world. There’s a certain joy in being able to exist without the need for validation from others. Yes, I disappear a lot, and I have come to accept that it’s okay. I have come to think that it’s essential for my mental and emotional well-being. It’s a reminder that amidst the hustle and bustle of life, it’s okay to press pause and to retreat into the comfort of solitude.

But beneath this desire to vanish lies a deeper yearning — not to disappear, but to be found. It’s not a desire to be forgotten, but rather a longing to be sought after, to be understood and accepted for who I am. Sometimes, I think I want to disappear, but all I really want is to be found. Even though it seems like I'm running away— I am wanting to be found, to have someone rescue me from the darkness. To show me the light, to tell me that I am not alone in this world.

I may have lived with the art of disappearing, but I also hope that someday, someone will find me. Randomly disappearing is okay, keep your sanity.

[mayoayonnaise]

Sleeping is like my own comfort zone. It’s my escape when I am at my lowest. I sleep when the world has turned their back on me. I just like sleeping, even when I get nightmares sometimes, but it’s my escape. I tend to dream about people I think a lot, and sometimes, what I dream about always comes true. And it’s quite concerning to me, I don't even know why it happens. but I do like sleeping. If I were to choose, I'd sleep the whole day, and stay away from the world. I’m tired of life, to be honest. I hate how cruel the world is. It’s a torture, a challenge, yet there is always a lesson to learn, a mistake to learn from. But I don’t really want to grow.

Sleeping makes me feel the kind of peace I want to experience in real life. Which I know I could never have as it is indeed hard to do so. Life is like a living hell. But when I fall asleep, it’s a whole different world. The fantasy that I wish to happen in real life is happening in my dreams, and that is why I don't want to ever wake up when I'm finally sleeping. It’s a comfort, I feel like I’m home when I’m asleep. Sleeping is also a time for healing and rejuvenation. It allows my body and mind to rest and recover from the stresses of the day. It helps me to process my emotions, solve problems, and gain new insights. It is a time for self-reflection and growth.

But despite all the benefits of sleeping, I know that I cannot stay in my dream world forever. Eventually, I have to wake up and face the reality of the world. And although the world may be cruel and challenging, I know that there is also beauty and goodness in it. There are people who love and care for me, there are things that make me happy and fulfilled, and there are opportunities for me to learn and grow.

Because in the end, life is not about avoiding the challenges and difficulties, but about learning to overcome them and grow from them. It is about finding the courage to pursue our dreams and the strength to persevere in the face of adversity. It is about living our lives to the fullest and making the most of every moment.

I know all of that, I am aware of everything. But let me sleep still, peace is all I want. There are no limits, no boundaries, and no restrictions. I can fly through the air like a bird, swim in the ocean like a fish, or run through the forest like a deer. I can talk to animals, meet my favorite celebrities, or travel to distant lands. In my dreams, anything is possible.

Do I love sleeping? No questions asked, I definitely do, no matter the circumstances.

[mayoayonnaise]

The club was buzzing, lights flashing, and the music was so loud it made the floor vibrate. She was there with her boyfriend, but her attention was snagged by this really cool-looking woman on the other side of the room. There was an allure about her, a magnetic pull that she couldn’t resist. Without a second thought, she made her way through the crowd. Thoughts raced through her mind. What would it be like to kiss her? Would it be a mistake? But the curiosity was too strong to ignore. As she walked over, she experienced an odd mixture of anxiety and exhilaration.

They instantly connected after their eyes met. They shared a passionate kiss as she leaned closer. It was a kiss that sent shivers down her spine, a kiss that awakened something inside her that she had never known before. It wasn’t some crazy, dramatic thing— it was just a spontaneous moment of curiosity and excitement. When they pulled apart, she had this big grin on her face. She didn’t feel bad about it at all. It was like she’d just discovered a new side of herself. Yeah, she had a boyfriend, but right then, she was just enjoying this new experience. She was accepting the unexpected and living in the present.

Still experiencing that rush, she strolled back to her boyfriend. She knew it might make things a bit weird, but she wasn't stressing about it. Although she was aware that things could get tricky, she was prepared to handle any challenge that arose. She had tasted something new, and she wasn’t going to let go of that feeling. The night went on, and she danced with her boyfriend, but her mind kept drifting back to the kiss. It was a memory that she would cherish, a memory that would always remind her of the power of taking risks. She felt alive when she recalled it, as if she had ventured beyond her comfort zone, and it was amazing.

When the night finally came to an end, she left the club with a newfound sense of confidence. She was prepared to accept the changes and see where they would take her, even though she knew that her relationship with her lover might never be the same. She’d had this little moment of exploration, and it had changed her perspective a bit. She was just going to go with the flow and see where life took her. This brief period of introspection had somewhat altered her viewpoint. She simply intended to follow her destiny and see where life led her.

“what a time, maybe I could hit her up again.”

[mayoayonnaise]

She moved with a fluid grace, a goddess sculpted from moonlight and honey. Her power wasn't a weapon brandished, but a silent, irresistible force. A whisper that could shatter mountains, a glance that could ignite revolutions. She wasn’t above the fray; she was woven into the very fabric of it, the heartbeat of creation, the pulse of life itself. She wasn’t draped in celestial fabrics or perched on a throne of clouds. She was just… her. A woman, maybe a barista, maybe a teacher, maybe a single mom juggling three jobs. But in her eyes— the quiet strength of a thousand suns. This was God, in her most human form, and her power wasn’t some cosmic force, but the quiet, unwavering resolve to dismantle the systems that had tried to break her, and countless others like her. SHE WAS JUST A WOMAN, A WOMAN.

The men who misjudged her, the ones who saw only her grin, not the fire in her eyes— they missed the point entirely. Her strength was only increased by their attempts to subdue, and control her. Their biggest flaw was their blindness, and their arrogance was their downfall. For she was the earth— fertile and unwavering, capable of both nurturing and destruction. They didn’t see the years of hard work, the sacrifices made, the battles fought and won in the quiet corners of my own heart. They failed to recognize the courage required to get out of bed every morning, deal with the continual push to fit in, the subtle slights, and the microaggressions. MEN ARE TRASH— WHY MUST MEN DISREGARD WOMEN’S WORTH?

She was the storm— powerful and erratic, capable of both gentle rain and devastating thunder. She was the sun— radiating warmth and light, but could also burn those who dared to stand too close. She was the moon— a silent observer, a confidante, a source of both enigma and comfort. She didn’t need to raise her voice; her actions spoke volumes. She wasn’t seeking vengeance— she was building a better world, a world where the divine feminine wasn't relegated to a distant, ethereal realm, but woven into the very fabric of everyday life. THE TRUE POWER OF GOD, A WOMAN THAT SHE IS.

And maybe that’s okay. Maybe they’re not meant to understand. Her power is for her alone, for the women who stand beside her. It’s a power built not on anger, but on self-acceptance, on resilience, on the unwavering belief in our own inherent worth. And that, her friends, is a force to be reckoned with. She was unquestionably powerful, the embodiment of creation, the creator of her own fate. It was a power that was earned rather than imposed, one that was evoked by awe and reverence rather than fear. She is aware that she is unstoppable. MEN SHALL KNEEL BEFORE THE WOMAN, KNEEL BEFORE HER— KNOW YOUR PLACE, PEASANT. WORSHIP WOMEN.

[mayoayonnaise]

I was asked by someone I know once, “when you die, who do you think will sit at your grave the longest?” and I was quiet for a few minutes, I didn't know what to answer as I don't know who. will someone even visit my grave daily? I don't think so. I haven't really thought about that. I've been doing things to harm myself, and kill myself, yet none kills me. I don't think I have ever wondered what would actually happen if I die. will people actually cry before my coffin? will they sincerely regret those bad things they've done to me? but has anyone actually ever cared for me? I don't think so. I think darkness will consume me after I die as I await 'till I get reborn again. I don't even think reincarnation is indeed true. I don't believe that the afterlife is true. I think I will return to the nothingness that originally existed before I was born. I will cease to exist— my body will rot, and will eventually be turned into nothing but dust. but when I die, I don't want to be reincarnated to live a life as a different person and repeat the life cycle. but who will sit in my grave when I die? I don't know. perhaps no one. perhaps people will only visit my grave every once in a while. there will probably be no one who will sit in my grave and tell my soul about how their day went, or if they actually miss my presence. but I don't really think there is such a person who will actually do that. perhaps nothing will happen when I die. I will only forget about this life that I had if I ever get reincarnated. it does make me wonder now; who will sit in my grave the longest if I die? who will visit my grave often if I die?

[mayoayonnaise]

things have been getting so heavy lately, and it’s getting unbearable. as days pass by, everything is getting harder for me to carry. I want to run away. I want to escape this reality for a while, and mend my soul. I am insane and complicated, and it’s making me want to dig a hole and bury myself. but I know I can’t do that, of course. so I want to run away, I wanna escape this reality.

well, if I could really run away, I yearn to escape to a place where I am a stranger, far away from hustle and bustle, surrounded by nature’s embrace. a place where I can be free from the weight of responsibilities, the constant pressure to excel and the obligation to socialize. I want to be in a place where I would find solace in the simple beauty of my surroundings— by the soothing sounds of rustling leaves, and the melodies of birds. I would go to a place where happiness wouldn’t be fleeting but a constant companion, offering me respite from the struggles of the world outside.

and now I imagine myself lying on a cliff overlooking the ocean, I spend a night stargazing. the sky is ablaze with stars, a breathtaking spectacle. the immensity of the universe puts my problems into perspective, making them seem small and insignificant. I feel a sense of awe and wonder, a connection to something larger than myself. the stars are a constant reminder of the beauty and wonder that exists beyond my immediate reality.

this escape isn’t just about physical distance, but it’s about leaving behind the baggage of my past. in this secluded refuge, I could shed layers of my old self, and embrace the freedom to redefine who I am. everything has been hard, and it’s getting scary to  face the reality while you’re still carrying a weight of doubts, disappointments, and regrets. but if I get to actually run away even for a moment, I’ll make sure that every moment in that serene paradise would hold the promise of a brighter future, unencumbered by the mistakes and regrets of the past. in this moment of freedom, I could breathe deeply, inhaling the freshness of possibility, and exhaling every burdens that have held me back for so long.

and perhaps one day, as I sip my matcha tea in the peaceful landscapes of Switzerland, I’ll reflect on how far I’ve come, and how this journey of mine to find myself has led me to the place where I can be truly happy, and be myself.

let’s run away together, you and me.

[mayoayonnaise]

I have always wondered what it feels like to be the prologue, point of view, epilogue, end game, and special chapter in life and love. I've been watching and reading romance for as long as I remember, and doing so raised my standards quite a bit. so I tried writing instead, making myself as the one being loved, and treasured, the end game of each piece. I became the writer, making the people I love the muse of each of my pieces.

they say when a writer loves, they love deeply and truly. they understand your flaws and love you even more because of them. their words can make you feel like the most important person in the world. they give importance to both your strengths and weaknesses.

a writer’s love is patient and understanding. they know that life isn’t always perfect and that everyone has bad days. their love provides a safe haven — a place where you can be yourself without fear of judgment. in their eyes, you are perfect just the way you are.

that’s why I envy those who are loved by a writer. I’m always the poet, never the poem.

I thought being a muse would remain as a dream to a writer like me. I never thought that I'd be loved, that I'd be treasured, and most of all, be the muse of someone. it was a new experience, an enchanting experience, unforgettable. I have become the prologue, point of view, epilogue, end game, and special chapter in life and love by someone. what does it feels like to be loved by a writer? oh, it's so magical, you'd think that you're in a dream. I used to only dream of myself being in one of those romantic movies, or books, but now? oh, that dream of mine has come true.

perhaps it is true what they say— to be loved by a writer is to be immortal. you’d live for a lifetime in their poems. even when you’re gone, their words will keep a part of you alive. their love will echo through their stories, touching the hearts of others and keeping your memory alive.

being loved by a writer means being seen in a way that few people ever did. it’s a love that is detailed and profound. this love transforms ordinary moments into extraordinary memories. this love makes everyday life feel like a beautiful story. I love this feeling.

being loved by a writer is a gift. it’s a love that never fades, a love that lives on in the words they write. I never expected to become the muse of a writer, but here I am— the poem of a poet. it’s a gift, a treasure, a love that transcends the ordinary and reaches for the extraordinary.

[mayoayonnaise]

I saw this trend in TikTok, the “orange peel theory.” it suggests that if your partner peels an orange for you, it signifies their true and pure love. I thought it was sweet and all, but I don't really believe it. I believe it's more crucial to learn how to peel your own orange first. it is true that before you understand and love others completely, and without hesitation— we must understand our own worth, and love ourselves the most. you can't really love someone completely without loving yourself first. you have to be your own safe space first, peel your own orange. we are all bound to be alone at times, and that's okay. it's fine to be independent, and not rely on someone else to peel your oranges for you. love yourself the same way you give your love to others freely. be kind to your soul.

before asking people to peel our oranges or peeling oranges for others, we must first learn how to peel them ourselves. I peeled my own orange today, but that doesn’t mean I’m not open to having someone help me peel it. while we are responsible for peeling our oranges, it’s perfectly fine to let others love us, to appreciate us. love goes in both ways and is universal. a better way to phrase it is that we are responsible for growing and protecting our oranges, but we may also allow others to help peel them, sharing the delight and success of a peeled orange.

and when I met you, you took this little orange from my hands, then expertly removed its skin. you separated it into perfect halves, also removing the annoying white thing left from the orange’s skin— just as I thought you were gonna give it to me . with little voices clouding my mind, your voice serves as an alarm—  your arms offering a plate, with the peeled oranges and…. salt? “it’s too sour, I heard it's better with salt this way” you said, and went to the kitchen. holding the oranges, I hope that I could just put it in my pocket and keep it for the longest, but I took a bite; savoring the salty taste that the salt makes, followed with the taste of the orange itself

maybe this is what love feels like with this orange peel theory.

god, she's so beautiful. I can peel her a piece of tangerine, or maybe a clementine. maybe not a piece.. how many does she want it to be? I know how long she's been peeling oranges all by herself all this time, so I wanna do it for her now that I'm by her side. as I held the oranges in my hands, peeling it with utmost care because I know how she didn’t like to eat ruined oranges. the pieces come apart neatly— she doesn’t know that peeling oranges for her is a silent way to say I love you.

“It’s too sour, I heard it’s better with salt this way.” I researched. I read that if that fruit is too sour, it’s better with a pinch of salt . I know it’s a small thing, but that look in her face when I offer to peel that orange for her is everything, I know that look— that’s how I look at her. it’s never a “small thing” wanting to make someone’s life easier even with the small thing is a big thing. I can peel her oranges, or clementine, or even tangerine for her for as long as she wants. I'll do it neatly, and be happy with just her smiling at me after I've given her the peeled oranges. I'll do it for you for as long as I exist.

[mayoayonnaise]

what if the multiverse exists?

if an alternate universe exists, I wish the other me is doing well. I don't want my other self to suffer in silence, or feel unappreciated, or worthless. maybe I am doing well there. perhaps my 8 year old self did not lose herself. If the alternate universe is actually true, I wish I am doing well there. but there's also a possibility that I am living the dream that I want there, or maybe I am not really suffering, perhaps I have my own peace there. well, I do wish it is true.

if the multiverse was proven to be true, do you think we'd be together there? do you think we'd be soulmates there? I mean, there is a high possibility that we'd be total strangers whose path never crossed once. but I would want it more if we were soulmates in another universe. where no one could get in between the two of us— that would be such a dream. if the multiverse is actually true, I wish we're not suffering, and have the peace and happiness we've always wanted.

but if it is really true, perhaps it's different; maybe I'm fine without you, and you're fine without me. perhaps I am existing there, full of confidence, loving myself as I pursue my dreams. and maybe you are too, where you're at ease, pursuing your dreams, living peacefully. but I refuse to live in a parallel dimension where you are not a part of it. I refuse to live in a world without you. in this life, just the thought of it already aches my heart; my heart seems to cannot take the possibility of it.

if the multiverse is indeed real, I'd wish for the two of us to be living the way we have always wanted to. I don't want us to suffer, I don't want our soul to be broken. I'd wish for you to find your own soulmate where you can be loved genuinely, and won't feel worthless, if we're not made of each other. existing in the world, breathing the same air, or even looking at the same sky— as long as we're doing these, I believe I can be at ease where I do not have to worry that you'll be mistreated.

if the multiverse is real, if we exist in a thousand different forms, a thousand different realities— I hope we find peace, a sense of belonging, a place where our hearts can finally rest. perhaps, in one of those universes, we are together— our love story unfolding in a symphony of shared dreams. perhaps, in another, we are simply two souls, each finding our own path, our own light, our own happiness.

[mayoayonnaise]

                                                  halika rito

          sumugal ka ng sampung minuto

   sabay tayong maglalayag sa kawalan

                                 sakay ng ating isipan

kumusta ka na? ayos ka pa ba? inaapi ka na naman ba ng mundo? halika, samahan mo 'ko. huwag kang mag-alala, hindi natin sila bati. halika ka't maglakbay tayo, itatakas kita sa mundong kay pait. lilisanin natin itong mundong umaapi sa'yo, lalakbayin natin ang kawalan hanggang sa malimutan mo ang sakit na ibinibigay ng mundo. kahit gaano pa katagal, sasamahan kita hanggang sa maging okay ka na. sasamahan kitang kumuha ng lakas para magpatuloy na lumaban sa mundong kay gulo. huwag kang mag-alala, po-protektahan kita sa kung sino man ang aaway sa'yo, hindi natin sila bati. kakampi mo 'ko.

                                        iwan natin silang lahat

                     tayo muna hanggang sa pagdilat

              buburahin lahat ng alaala kasama sila

iwanan na natin silang lahat, sinta. huwag mo na muna silang alalahanin, tayo munang dalawa. iiwan natin silang lahat, lalo na ang mga taong walang ibinigay sa'yo kundi sugat sa iyong puso. hindi natin sila bati. ako muna ang kasama mo, at gagawin ko ang lahat para kahit panandalian lamang ay makalimutan mo ang mga problema mo. isipin muna natin sarili natin. huwag kang mag-alala, hindi ka maglalakbay sa kawalan ng mag-isa, kasama mo ako. sasamahan kita sa kung saan mo man gustuhing pumunta, tatakas tayo sa mundong kay gulo. gagabayan kita, narito ako para samahan ka.

isipin mo na muna ang sarili, huwag mong alalahanin ang mga problema mo, at mga taong walang ginawa sa buhay mo kundi ang saktan ka. tayo munang dalawa. panandalian man o hindi, sasamahan kita, at ipararamdam ko sa'yong ligtas ka. handa akong samahan ka kahit gaano pa katagal, at iparamdam sa'yo ang tunay na pahinga. huwag mong problemahin ang mga bagay-bagay, sarili mo muna. kasama mo ako, kakampi mo ako. hindi natin sila bati. tahan na, itatakas kita sa magulong mundong ito. hayaan mong yakapin ka ng katahimikan, at pakinggan mo ang bulong ng hangin.

[mayoayonnaise]

I live in a world where society always has high expectations, and everyone I meet seems to have it all together— admitting that I'm struggling feels so wrong, and embarrassing. well, it's because there's this unspoken rule that I must always be strong, independent, in control, and shouldn't show any weakness or vulnerability, and it’s hard to keep up with that.

I just know that most of us are just pretending, masking our struggles away with the facade of smiles and laughter. I mean, it's really hard to keep up with the expectations from society. everything feels chaotic in doing so. every smile, every laughter, every bit of my confidence, composed look is another version of me that's unexpected— too broken, too wounded, imperfect, full of flaws. I could do nothing about it but pretend.

I often think that if I show my vulnerability, and they'll witness how fragile I've become— they will think less of me, and judge me. and I'm scared for that to happen. by showing my vulnerability, it's like showing my naked body to everyone, and I can't do that— I'm scared. but I also need a hand to hold me, I'm drowning here, I'm drowning from this wave of my hidden emotions.

that's why I have my coffee. I bottle it all up, sip in my coffee, and suffer because in silence because no one will help me when I'm drowning but myself. that's how I thought suffering should be— hidden in silence, known by no one. but hiding my pain doesn't really do anything— it just makes me suffer more, drowned, suffocated, and broken all in silence with no one to help me.

but what if I speak of the truth?

no, admitting that we're struggling doesn't make us less of a human. no, admitting that we're in pain doesn't make us weak. it makes us, us. it makes us humans. isn't that how humans are made? to feel something, aside from happiness— a moment of doubt, fear, exhaustion. despite feeling all of that, we're all soldiers fighting our own battles. and no one has the right to judge us just because we're suffering and struggling.

like they say, “it’s okay not to be okay” because everyone has their own struggles. asking for help doesn't equate to us being weak. it just means that we are strong and brave enough to share what we truly feel. truth be spoken— being strong doesn't mean perfection and in control. it's about being honest to yourself, and facing our struggles, not hiding them. the more you hide it, the weaker you get.

[mayoayonnaise]

to be loved is to be known, to be understood, to be accepted, to be seen, to be heard, and to be valued.

          “how did you know I like that?”

               “because I know you.”

I never believed that to be loved is to be known. maybe because I believed that to be loved is to be appreciated, and that’s all I ever thought. I didn’t care if my energy or feelings weren’t being reciprocated. I only wanted to have my energy appreciated. well, that changed when I met you. when I felt your love, I believed the phrase “to be loved is to be known” and I never wanted your love to come to an end.

the way you make me feel— it goes beyond words because finally, someone sees me for who I truly am, no questions asked. you just notice every little thing about me— you notice little things that even I might overlook. you notice how I tap my foot when I’m anxious, or how I sing along to my favorite music in public. and you even remember my birthday without anyone reminding you, not your calendar or anyone. you even know my favorite book without having to ask.

to be loved is to be seen. to be seen when you feel invisible. being known means someone has taken the time to learn about you— to pay attention to the details that make you unique. it’s a love that listens, that asks questions, and that cares about the answers. it’s a love that remembers the little things— the stories you’ve told, the songs you’ve recommended, and the experiences you’ve shared. and I really love how you are exactly this. you make me feel safe with you. I feel safe to be vulnerable around you.

this kind of love that you’re making me experience creates a safe space where I can be myself without fear of judgment. I don’t have to pretend or hide my true feelings with you. I feel accepted for who I am— flaws and all. the love that knows me is the love that stays and grows.

          “just let her be for a while‚ she’s feeling down.”

                    “she’s just tired. let her be.”

            “she bites her nails when she’s nervous.”

                “she’s grumpy because she’s hungry.”

                   “she needs a hug‚ a tight one.”

        “her favorite color is green and blue.”

           “she enjoys watching the sunset.”

             “her favorite flavor is matcha.”

[mayoayonnaise]

everyone thought I was a little strange. not in a bad way, exactly, but in a way that left them perplexed and unsure of my motivations. they called me eccentric, a walking paradox, a kaleidoscope of contradictions.

I’d burst into a spontaneous song in the middle of the library, my voice a melody that seemed to float above the hushed silence. I’d wear mismatched socks with pride, as if defying the very notion of conformity. I’d gather broken crayons and bottle caps; my room is filled with strange objects that most people would consider garbage.

I wasn’t bothered by their whispers. Their perplexity inspired me, which is evidence of my uniqueness. in fact, I seemed to thrive on it, my eccentricity of a shield against the world’s expectations. I was a puzzle, a jumble of colors and sounds that no one could quite decipher.

then one day, you walked into my life. you were a whirlwind of energy, a kaleidoscope of contradictions. you wore your heart on your sleeve, your emotions are a vibrant tapestry of laughter and tears. your thoughts are a symphony of meaning that spoke to my spirit through metaphors and riddles. you fit my weirdness; we have similar energies.

you were the missing piece of my puzzle, the missing note in my symphony. you were my soul’s reflection, the universe that reflected mine. you saw the beauty in my oddities, the magic in my eccentricities. you didn’t try to tame my wild spirit, to fit me into a mold, instead, you embraced my chaos, my contradictions, my very essence.

and the crazy thing is, you’d burst into a spontaneous song in the middle of the library as well. you’d wear mismatched socks with pride, like I do! and you would also collect caps and broken crayons, and your room is a kaleidoscope of oddities that even I would consider trash.

we were a strange pair, a mismatched duo, a testament to the beauty of imperfection. but in our strangeness, we found a connection that transcended the ordinary. we were two souls, perfectly imperfect, finally finding our place in each other’s universe.

[mayoayonnaise]

letting people in has always been tough for me. I’ve built walls around my heart. but with you, I can be vulnerable.

I never really thought I’d be in love again, not after being treated like garbage, not when I always have to beg for love. I’ve always been the odd one out. while my friends were busy swooning over boys, I was content with my books, my music, my own company. love? I thought it was messy, fleeting, and ultimately, a recipe for heartbreak. I saw the wreckage it left behind, the shattered promises, the lingering pain. no, thank you, I decided. love wasn’t for me.

then you came. I found myself drawn to you, like a moth to a flame. you made me laugh, you made me feel alive. you were the exception, the one who defied all my expectations, the one who showed me that love could be different, could be gentle, could be real. you were the one who made me believe. but I’m scared— what if you don’t feel the same? what if you’re like that to everyone else? what if you’re only fooling around? these questions are making my head explore.

but what is this that I’m hearing about you? what do they mean I’m the only woman you ever treat like that? what do they mean you’re nonchalant to them, but not me?

“you were the only exception, the one who opened my heart, the one who made me feel seen, the one who made me believe in a love that was worth the risk. you were the only exception, and for the first time, I felt the thrill of being loved, the wonder of being understood, the joy of being the exception.”

it’s so easy to fall into the trap of thinking you’re too complicated, too damaged, too unworthy of affection. just like how I completely fall for that trap— you saved me from it. “you are not hard to love. you are not a burden. you are not too much.” is what you said to me, and perhaps, that is why I completely fell for you.

I hate to admit it, but you taught me how to love, and I love you for that.