From This 12th to the Next

 It’s never that I run out of words—it’s just that sometimes, I don’t know how to arrange them the way my heart feels them. All the things I’ve been wanting to say today, on the 12th… the things I’ve carried with me for the past two months… they’re all here, overflowing, like I’ve loved you for years already.

It’s too early, maybe. But my heart has never been this sure. This kind of feeling—this deep, steady pull toward you—I would choose it in a hundred lifetimes, across a hundred worlds, in every version of reality. I would always find you… and I would always choose you.

I don’t love you just for your best. I want to love you in your worst, too—especially in your worst. If there’s one thing life and love have taught me, it’s this: real love doesn’t only shine when things are beautiful. Real love stays when the lights go out. When you’re tired, when you feel like you’ve run out of strength, I want to be there. When you’re not at your best, I want to stay—not out of duty, but because I love you through and through.

Let’s choose that kind of love—the kind that fights, stays, and grows even through the storms. That’s the kind of love I want with you. That’s what I promise to give.

Looking back, I wasn’t searching for love. I wasn’t looking for you. But then you came… right when I was finally ready. Ready to believe in what my heart truly wanted. And in these two short months, you’ve changed me. You’ve helped me see parts of myself I never knew existed—and that, to me, is the most beautiful kind of love: the one that helps you grow.

I thank God it’s you. I really do. He wrote a story for us that I never imagined—one I couldn’t have written myself. It feels a little magical, doesn’t it? Funny, too. And yet there’s something about you, about us, that I can’t explain. I just know it’s real. I just know… I love you. In the deepest way I know how.

And more than anything, I want you to stay. Not just in this lifetime, but in every lifetime that follows. Through all the seasons. Through all the changes. You are my constant.

My favorite person. My kakulitan, my kainisan, sometimes my kaaway—but always, always my kakampi.

I love you, Babi. Always.