supershobe

[supershobe]

I pray I never get attached to someone who ain’t for me again

[supershobe]

You’re not selfish for wanting the same energy and love you give

[supershobe]

When the Universe Speaks in Signs (Or Maybe Just Coincidences)

For months, I’ve been praying—really praying—for the strength to move on from a connection that never got its proper ending. No closure, no goodbye. Just silence. And in that silence, I kept asking God for a sign. Something, anything, to help me let go with peace.

There were many little signs along the way—things you could brush off as coincidence, but still made me pause. One moment, in particular, stuck with me.

I was chatting with my officemate, casually telling her that I wanted to get a tattoo. She asked me what kind, and I mentioned maybe something in Chinese characters, though I hadn’t really decided. Then she joked, “Let’s get Arabic tattoos!” Just playing around, I laughed and said, “Okay, I’ll ask him how his name is written in Arabic.” It was a silly moment—but it stuck with me for some reason.

A few days later, after he had already blocked me, I noticed something odd—he had changed his display name… into Arabic. I just stared at it, half-laughing, half-shocked. I mean—is this a sign? And if so, what kind of sign is this? A cosmic joke? A message? A mirror to my overthinking?

And then there’s the file. A file on my device with his name on it. Every time I open it, it flashes the letters: LOML. I didn’t name it that. But somehow, that’s what it says. Every time. It’s like the universe is winking at me or messing with my head. I’m not even sure which.

Maybe these things mean nothing. Maybe they mean everything. But what I’m learning is that signs don’t always come to give you answers. Sometimes, they show up just to remind you that your heart still feels—that there’s still something unresolved. And maybe that’s okay for now.

I’m still in the process of letting go. Still trying to rewrite the story in my head with a softer ending. But for now, I’m letting these little "signs" land where they may—maybe not as closures, but as gentle nudges from the universe reminding me I’m not alone in this.

[supershobe]

I’ve always believed in the importance of closure — that final conversation, the last goodbye, the clarity that helps us move on. But over time, I’ve also come to realize that sometimes, closure doesn’t come in words. Sometimes, a person’s actions are all the closure we need. The way they show up — or don’t — the way they treat us when it matters most, speaks volumes. It may not be the kind of closure we hoped for, but it’s often the most honest kind.

[supershobe]

sometimes we won't get the closure we want but that doesn't mean we didn't deserve it.

[supershobe]

Two months had passed, and I wasn’t expecting anything—not a message, not a sign. But then, a familiar username suddenly appeared on my TikTok. The moment I saw it, I knew I had to ask the question that had been haunting me ever since things fell apart. I sent the message, fully aware that doing so might sever our connection for good. But I had to—because God forbid the girl inside me who needed closure, who deserved an answer. I knew he read it the moment I hit send; he just had to press and hold the notification. I didn’t expect a reply, but what I got was the most meaningless, empty response imaginable. It made no sense, and it only fueled my anger. The emotional weight was too much—I broke down so badly I had to be rushed to the ER. The abdominal pain was unbearable, but worse than that was the pain I couldn’t explain—the one that crushed my heart.

[supershobe]

so I kept it to myself – and it hurts

[supershobe]

i miss you

[supershobe]

No not again

Falling into you again

Without thinking

Thinking about the consequence

It's a vicious cycle

I keep falling off the bicycle

Then you leave me

Sprawled out on the pavement again

You say you love me

I know that you're insincere

Sadness isn't worth the trouble

But I know you are

Do I say this 'cause I believe it's true

Or am I just that stupid

Here we go again

Putting myself through this again

Told myself not this time

Told myself this time would be fine

You're a disease

I don't want a remedy

Feels just about the same

I know that it's different this time

You say you love me

Oh you're so insensitive

[supershobe]

But I'm lettin' go

I'm givin' up the ghost

But don't get me wrong

I'll always love you, that's why I wrote you this very last song

I guess this is where we say goodbye

I know I'll be alright

Someday, I'll be fine

But just not tonight

[supershobe]

Hindi ko naman yata ikamamatay

Kung hindi ko mahawakan ang iyong kamay

Handa 'kong mabuhay sa aking kalokohan

Kung wala ka sa 'king buhay walang kalungkutan

[supershobe]

acid reflux pa ba ‘to? — o acid relapse?

[supershobe]

I wish someday I could tell you how much it hurts. I stayed up overthinking everything, feeling a deep ache in my stomach at night. I kept pretending I was okay, holding back every word I wanted to say, as if it even mattered.

[supershobe]

It's always the little things. I would always take a photo of anything that reminded me of him. More than a month without contact — and here I am, still wondering when I’ll be able to send this picture to him. Not until one fine morning, I remember I have a picture of his favorite energy drink. I don’t know why, but at that exact moment, I knew I had to send it to our group chat (where he would send updates and all). I wasn’t expecting anything, but a minute passed, and a notification popped up that he had sent a photo of himself holding the same energy drink. I don’t know why, but tears came rushing down. I couldn’t help but cry. We weren’t on speaking terms. I didn’t know what to reply, so I just reacted to it and went to sleep, not expecting anything. I knew him too well, and at that particular moment, I knew I wouldn’t be getting any replies. Not until I checked our group chat again, and he had sent a video. I knew I had to reply. It was like perfect timing — I knew who he was with. I was stunned that he sent an update of what he was up to. At that moment, I knew I had to message him. I felt anxious about sending the message, overthinking what if he just ignores it, like last time. But he replied, as if nothing happened. I still don’t know why he unfriended me, but we continued exchanging messages like we used to. I had to stop when he said he was sleepy already. I couldn’t stop feeling anxious, as this is the same message he gave me when he cut me off. At that moment, I accepted that maybe this was the sign I had been looking for — to let go and let God. For months, I had been praying to understand the reason, but now I’ve realized that it’s time to let things be and move forward. In God’s perfect timing, everything will be alright. No pain, just pure bliss.

[supershobe]

For months, I've been thinking about what could've been. The way he cut off the connection, I know I shouldn't miss him. It felt like he had planned all of this and left with no trace. Not until one day, he sent an update in our group chat. I didn’t know how to feel. I was happy at first, thinking at least he remembered. But then I realized, what if this is the closure I needed? I knew, at that moment, this is not what I deserved. After all this time, I was true to him.

[supershobe]

The betrayal I felt when I discovered he had a girlfriend all this time while talking to me was overwhelming. For months, I believed in the connection we shared, thinking that we were building something meaningful. The trust I had in him shattered in an instant, leaving me with a bitter mix of anger, confusion, and hurt.

[supershobe]

the sign I had been asking for all along....

The Sagittarius in me knows what I want and don’t like. The first time I laid eyes on this guy, I knew there was something about him that drew my attention. At first, I thought it was nothing—I was just bored with life and needed someone to talk to, someone to share how my day went or exchange a little office chismis with.

As days went by, our small interactions turned into something more. We followed each other on social media, had casual conversations, and got to know each other. Deep down, I knew there were parts of himself he couldn’t fully share, and that was totally fine. But somewhere along the way, something changed. I found myself wanting to care for him, to be there for him in ways I knew I couldn’t.

Given the circumstances—the age gap, the difference in our beliefs—I knew I couldn’t act on my feelings. So I kept everything to myself. There were moments when I would block him on social media, hoping to erase my emotions, to forget. But then, one day, he unfriended me first. No explanation. No words. Just gone.

It hurt. But when I took a step back, I realized—I had been doing the same thing to him. Maybe this was just me getting a taste of my own medicine. The only difference was, this time, I didn’t have the courage to ask why.

I cried. I doubted myself. I hated myself. Maybe I was the problem. Maybe I did something wrong. But then I looked back and remembered the good memories. Whatever his reason was, it was valid. Maybe it was because of his beliefs. Maybe I crossed a line without realizing it. Or maybe this was simply meant to happen.

And perhaps, this was the sign I had been asking for all along.