Hi! Do you still remember me? It’s Paulo. I don’t know the name you’re using now but all I know is that I was that guy who got his heartbroken. And the reason is you. If you don’t remember me, then let the contents of this letter remind you.
I was that guy you asked if it’s okay if you could love. I was that guy you said you wanted to love. I didn’t know how to answer your question so I didn’t. I didn’t know how to.
I was that guy you had phone sex with even though your mother is just in the room right next to yours. I was that guy you sent some racy pictures to, and I was that guy who sent some dick pictures to you. I was that guy who masturbated for you, and sent you some pictures as proof.
I was that guy who’s supposed to smoke with you the night of June 1st. I was supposed to meet you up at 7/11 but I couldn’t. I was scared. I was shy. I wasn’t ready. We were moving too fast.
I was that guy who texted you every moment he could when he went to Tagaytay just to give you an update of his whereabouts. You said you wanted to know how I’m doing. You said I should text you. Even the most mundane things. And I did.
I was that guy who changed his network carrier just so we could communicate with ease. You said you only had load for Sun subscribers so I changed to Sun. No second guessing, I switched to Sun.
I was that guy you called up at seven in the morning just to say “hi” to. Your ringtone was One Call Away by Charlie Puth. After you gave me your number days before, I changed your ringtone so that I would know that it was you who’s calling my number. You’re special. You’re only one who had that ringtone. Everyone else got the generic telephone one.
I was that guy you had sex with in that motel near the public market. I was that guy you made a mess with in the bathroom of that motel room. I was that guy you cuddled with in bed until it was time to go. I was that guy who felt this longing feeling inside of him after you left him alone in that dark cold motel room.
I was that guy you promised you’ll get to know more. You told me how happy you were to have met me in person. You told me how different I was to the other people you’ve met before me. You told me you’ll take some time before committing to a relationship with me because you wanted to be sure.
I was that guy a year ago. And to be honest with you, I bled for you. I bled for you hard. I used to go back to the only memories we had. I cried that day I said goodbye to you. I wrote you that long text message, and for the last time, sent it to you without any hope of you replying back. But you did, and you were sorry.
But that was a year ago. You left, I got left behind. But as time passed by, I was able to move on. Most of the time, I don’t remember you. And when I do remember you, I feel nothing anymore. I don’t miss you anymore. I’m glad I don’t anymore.
I’m writing this to you to thank you. Thank you for making me feel wanted even though it’s only in borrowed time. Thank you for that night when I felt I was loved. I don’t regret meeting you. I don’t regret catching feelings for you. I don’t regret having memories of you inside my head because now, I just remember you. I don’t miss you anymore.
I wish you well in life. I hope you’re doing fine. You don’t have to worry about me. All is well as it should be.