It Was Almost Love

Twenty-Three Days

Solana's POV:

They say time heals everything. Pero ang natutunan ko, hindi naman talaga tuluyang naghihilom ang sugat — it just teaches you how to carry them without flinching.

I thought I had moved on. I really did. Back when we were in Grade school, when you walked away, I told myself it was for the best. I told myself I'd be fine.

I stepped into Senior High, focused on my studies, joined clubs, surrounded myself with people — and pretended that the space beside me had never mattered as much as it did.

I acted like I didn't still glance at your old seat during assemblies, like I didn't wonder how you were doing, like I didn't replay our last conversation late at night, asking myself what I could've said differently to make you stay. Nang maramdaman ko naman na hindi ko kasalanan.

Ilang buwan akong magaling magpanggap.

Then April came — One message. That's all it was, your name was there.

My thumb hovered over the screen. My chest tightened. The same way it used to when you'd look my way, when you'd save me a seat, when you'd say my name like it was something worth remembering.

Gusto kong iwanang hindi binabasa. Pero may bahagi ng pagkatao ko — ang tanga at umaasang bahagi na akala ko nakalimutan ko na — ang gustong sumagot agad.

He left you once,

I reminded myself.

What if he does it again?

But I answered anyway.

I told myself it was just closure. Just curiosity. But deep down, I knew: I never actually stopped wondering.

The reply came fast.

"I missed you, Sol."

"I couldn't forget you. It was so hard — every single day."

Binasa ko nang paulit-ulit. Sa sobrang tagal kong pag-iisip — iniisip mo rin ba ako kahit kalahati ng pag-iisip ko na sa iyo?

Nasaktan ka rin ba?

Patuloy kang nagsalita. Sinabi mo na kapag nakakarinig ka ng kanta, nakakakita ng lugar — naaalala mo ako.

I should've asked more. I should've asked why then, why now, and what changed.

But your voice notes sounded steady, sincere — like someone who'd thought about this for a long time — and I was so tired of being the one left behind. I wanted to be someone's choice. Not an option. Not a memory. Their choice.

And for twenty-three days, I believed I was.

We talked from early morning greetings to late-night calls that blurred into sunrise. You'd tell me about your SHS days — the pressure, the plans, the dreams you haven't told anyone — and you'd ask about mine.

You remembered small things I'd mentioned ages ago: how I prefer quiet over crowds, which lyrics make me stop and listen, how I love watching the sunset because it feels like the world is breathing slowly, and how i enjoy writing poetries.

You'd say things like "I'm so glad I found my way back to you" and "This time it's real, I swear."

Agad naman akong napa ngiti. I walked through hallways feeling lighter. I looked in the mirror and thought — Maybe I'm enough.

Maybe I'm exactly who he's been looking for, too. The heaviness I'd carried, the feeling that something was missing began to lift. I felt seen. I felt wanted. I felt almost loved.

I counted the days. Twenty-three.

Not long in years, but long enough to build a world inside my head where we were together. Long enough para pagkatiwalaan siya ulit.

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Slowly, the shadows crept in.

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You started talking about her.

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