Take me back to the night we met.
Beneath the cloak of twilight, our worlds converged, and in the secret corners of my heart, a forbidden love was born. It is hard to admit that I fell in love with someone who belongs to our region’s greatest opponent. Yet, the more I tried to resist, the deeper I found myself entangled in the web of your charm, ever since the real battle began.
Is it so bad of me if I tell you that I’ve been supporting you silently while cheering our region’s representatives on TV broadcasting? Because if it weren’t for you, I might have drifted apart many times. In the quiet of my room, your victories became my secret joys, your struggles, are my silent sorrows. Your name, once foreign, became a whispered prayer on my lips, a beacon of hope in the tempest of competition.
The only chance that I would be able to see you up close is when the both of us become NSPC delegates. My smile widened and the feeling of bliss filled my heart when I heard the news that you won the RSPC, while I was still being trained to compete for DSPC. Months turned into weeks, and the moment I had dreamed of seemed to be slipping away. Yet, hope clung to me like a shadow.
Months have passed, and the moment has come. I lost hope and started to accept that I might never see you. But then my body felt numb and the world around me stopped as I heard the name of the SDO to which I belong. I won, we won. The first time that a month felt so long was now a mere whisper of the past, replaced by the anticipation of a dream on the brink of reality.
The night full of tears, drowned in tiredness, and sick of self-confidence had nearly killed me, as it was the most rigorous month I’ve been through. Yet, in those moments of despair, the thought of you became my anchor. The promise of seeing you fueled my determination, turned my exhaustion into a distant echo. Each day, my resolve grew stronger, and my heart, more certain.
I’ve been waiting for the moment to step foot in Cebu. The airport was filled with my excitement and hope that I’d be able to see you even if it was a hundred percent uncertain because of the many people I’d be bumping into. Each step felt like a beat of my heart, a rhythm that resonated with the pulse of the city. The air was thick with anticipation, the promise of a long-awaited meeting.
As soon as I arrived in Cebu, all I asked for was to hear your voice. I’ve been looking around, hoping that my eyes would land on you. Every morning I wake up, there’s a lingering feeling that I’d be able to see you throughout the day. Every night, I prayed that both of us would do well. In the silence of the night, my heart spoke to yours, weaving dreams of a future where we might stand side by side.
The day of competition arrived, and I learned that both of our categories would be held on the same day. As soon as I finished my work, I hoped to travel to the venue where TV broadcasting would be held. But I failed and was never able to watch you perform. That night was full of sorrow, the feeling of being unsatisfied with my own work, and the feeling of not being there to support you.
I opened my phone, and somehow, my day brightened as someone sent me your team’s performance. It was great; you were always great. In that moment, the distance between us dissolved, and I was there with you, celebrating your triumphs, sharing in your joy. Your brilliance illuminated the screen, casting away the shadows of doubt that had clouded my mind.
It’s been almost a week of staying in Cebu, but I’ve never been able to see you up close. Maybe, next time? The days passed in a blur, each one a fleeting chance slipping through my fingers. Yet, hope remained, a stubborn flame that refused to be extinguished. I held onto the belief that fate would weave our paths together once more.
We took a tour of Cebu City to unwind and feel relaxed for some time. I’m enjoying the beauty of the city and hoping to take a nice picture of me. But I’ve been separated from my teammates as I told them that I’d be buying something. In the midst of the bustling streets, I found myself alone, the weight of my solitude pressing down upon me.
There’s no one who would capture the beautiful moment I had. Someone talked behind me and asked if I wanted to take a picture. The voice was really familiar, as it made my heart race, my palms sweat, and my lips form into a wide smile. The moment I turned around, I knew it was you. The world seemed to pause, the noise of the city fading into the background, leaving only us.
It was the first time I saw you up close and heard your beautiful voice talk to me. You captured me beautifully, without any mistakes. I fell in love with the picture you took. You never really failed me. In that fleeting moment, our worlds collided, and the distance that had separated us dissolved into nothingness.
The thought that maybe God would never let me see you turned into a memory that I would never forget. It was the best first meeting that I’ve experienced in my whole life. In your presence, time lost its meaning, and all that mattered was the connection we shared, a bond forged in the crucible of competition and sealed by fate.
In the dim glow of the city lights, I often revisit that night in my mind, replaying each moment like a cherished scene from a favorite film. The way your eyes sparkled when you smiled, the gentle lilt of your voice, all etched into my memory. It was as if the universe had conspired to bring us together, even if just for a fleeting moment.
Sometimes, I wonder if you think of that night too. Do you remember the way our paths crossed so unexpectedly? Do you recall the brief conversation, the shared laughter, and the sense of connection that seemed to transcend the rivalry between our regions? These questions linger in my heart, unanswered but always present.
As the days turn into weeks and weeks into months, the memory of you remains a constant presence. It fuels my dreams and ignites my ambitions. Knowing that you are out there, somewhere, striving for excellence, gives me the strength to push forward, to chase my own dreams with unwavering determination.
There are moments when I catch myself lost in thoughts of what could have been. What if we had more time together? What if our lives were not bound by the constraints of competition and geography? These musings often bring a wistful smile to my lips, a blend of longing and hope.
The promise of “next time” is what keeps me going. The belief that our paths will cross again, that we will have another chance to connect, to share our stories and dreams.
In the quiet moments before I sleep, I often find myself whispering your name into the darkness, as if calling out to the universe to bring us together once more. Perhaps it is foolish, perhaps it is naïve, but it is this hope that sustains me, that keeps my heart beating with anticipation.
Life goes on, as it always does, but the memory of you remains a touchstone, a reminder of the beauty that can be found in unexpected places. Our story, though brief, is a testament to the power of connection, to the magic that can happen when two souls meet and recognize a kindred spirit.
For now, I find solace in the knowledge that somewhere out there, you are living your life, chasing your dreams, and perhaps, thinking of me too. The memory of you is a treasure I hold close to my heart, a source of strength and inspiration.
And so, I wait, with a heart full of hope and a mind brimming with dreams, for the day when we will meet again. Until then, the night we met will remain a cherished memory, a beautiful beginning to a story that is far from over.
