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Five minutes into the brink of our conversation, I felt a good presage between the awkward silence and confident gestures in the air. To break the ice, I said, “Look at this. This is the most precious gift I’ve ever received from someone. Thank you.”

He said, “Really? Thank you for keeping it.”

“You’re welcome. I’m not just keeping this ring; I’m treasuring it. Matter of fact, my phone is wallpapered by a photo of our fingers intertwining,” I became teary-eyed as I told him how much I’d missed him since that heartbreaking day when we fought over the phone.

He was so keen on me that now I don’t remember him blinking for a second. He was all ears and looked sympathetic as I tried pulling myself together and holding my tears back. He confessed, “I didn’t hate you, Ariel. It’s just that you hated me. And I’m not one to go out of my way for someone who doesn’t care about me any longer.”

I quickened to explain myself, “No. I didn’t hate you. There’s a big difference between hating and hurting. I was just hurt, but against some people teaching me to hate you or dwell on anything but the goodness in you in order to move on, I chose to follow my heart. And that’s because I love you.”

Amidst our reconciliation, I kept injecting: “Thanks be to God! Praise the Lord that you’re talking to me now, that we’re back in good terms, that I’ve resurfaced above the water after being drowned in anguish and groping for answers to my questions.”


By Ariel Allosada Allera; Beauty Spotted by Ariel Allera; Malabuyoc, Cebu, Philippines