Take a Chance with Me

Mikhaiah Lubog?

Then came one of the most heart-wrenching days in our group—Ate Aiah and Mikha officially ended their relationship. It tore us apart. As much as we were hurting for Ate Aiah, Mikha was our friend too. She was among my closest, in fact. It seemed like all of us had been crying for months. We took turns looking after them, especially Mikha, who turned to alcohol every night because of the heartbreak.

"Staku, mahal na mahal ko si Ate Aiah. Pero ba't ganon? I cannot fully change myself for her?" Mikha sobbed, her eyes bloodshot from sleepless nights and endless tears.

It hurt hearing her call Ate Aiah by her name instead of "babe" or "love." It was a painful reminder that it was really over. The intimacy they once shared had been replaced by a formality that cut through the air like a knife. Every time she uttered "Ate Aiah," it felt like a dagger to the heart, a stark acknowledgment of their lost love.

"Mikhs, hindi naman na siguro magiging ikaw yun if you change yourself for Ate Aiah. Siguro, hindi lang talaga kayo para sa isa't isa?" I replied, trying to hold back my own tears as I hugged her tightly.

The despair in her eyes was mirrored in mine. Mikha clung to me, her sobs wracking her body as she let out the anguish she had been holding in. "I tried, Staku. I tried so hard to be what she needed."

"I know you did," I whispered, stroking her hair. "But you can't lose yourself trying to be someone else. Deserve mo rin na mahalin for who you are."

The pain was very much evident, an invisible wound that ached with every breath. Each of them had their ways of moving on.

Ate Aiah, the adventurer that she is, left her job to find herself, wandering around the world with her heart shattered, hoping the pieces would fall back into place.

Mikha, on the other hand, accepted a slew of projects to keep herself busy. She threw herself into her work, trying to drown out the memories and the pain.

"I saw her today," Mikha whispered one evening, her voice trembling as we sat on the balcony, the city lights twinkling below us. "She looked so happy, Staku. I thought seeing her happy would make me happy, but it just broke me even more."

I took her hand, squeezing it gently. "It's okay to feel that way, Mikhs. You're healing in your own time. We're here for you, always."

Jhoanna and I were so proud of them. Despite their heartbreak, they were finding ways to move forward. Yet, the exhaustion from supporting our friends and dealing with our own fears had taken its toll on us.

One night, as Jhoanna and I lay in bed, she turned to me, her eyes filled with concern. "Staku, we need a break. Just you and me. Let's have a mini honeymoon, get away from all this stress."

I looked at her, my heart swelling with love. The idea of escaping our daily grind, even if just for a little while, seemed like the perfect remedy. "You're right, Jho. We need to reconnect, just us," I replied, squeezing her hand gently.

Then, grinning mischievously, I added, "Baka makabuo na tayo this time, Mahal."

Jhoanna, caught off guard, almost spit the water she had just sipped. She choked a little, then burst into laughter. "Staku, buang ka talaga. Kung ano ano iniisip mo!"

Her laughter was infectious, and soon we were both laughing together, the weight of our worries momentarily lifted by the joy of the moment. As we calmed down, I pulled her closer, feeling a renewed sense of connection. This little spark of humor and love reminded me why we needed this break—to find ourselves in each other again, away from the chaos of our everyday lives.

—-
We planned a getaway, just a small trip to a quiet beach. As we walked along the shore, hand in hand, the weight of the past few months began to lift.

"Do you think we'll ever have to go through something like that?" Jhoanna asked softly, her eyes searching mine.

I stopped and turned to her, cupping her face in my hands. "Jho, every relationship has its struggles. But I promise you, we'll face them together. I'm not going anywhere."

Tears welled up in her eyes as she smiled. "Forever and ever?"

"Forever and ever," I echoed, pulling her into a tight embrace.

The sound of the waves crashing against the shore was the perfect backdrop to our whispered promises. We sat there under the moonlight, letting the gentle lull of the sea wash over us, cleansing our worries.

The weeks that followed were a testament to our love. We returned from our trip feeling more connected and stronger than ever. Our love had been tested by the turmoil around us, but it had emerged unscathed.

One evening, as we sat with the rest of the group, reminiscing about old times, Mikha looked at us, a small smile playing on her lips. "You two give me hope, you know that?"

I reached out and squeezed her hand. "And you give us strength, Mikhs. We've all been through so much, but we're still here, still together."

Ate Aiah, who had returned from her travels with a newfound sense of peace, nodded in agreement. "We're family. And no matter what happens, we'll always have each other."

But the journey was far from over. Mikha's struggle with alcohol became more pronounced. We found her one night, clutching a bottle, her eyes hollow with despair.

"Staku, I can't do this anymore," she whispered, her voice breaking. "Everywhere I look, I see her. Every moment, I feel her absence."

I knelt beside her, my heart shattering at the sight. "Mikha, we love you. We're here for you. But you have to want to heal, to let us help you."

Jhoanna joined us, wrapping Mikha in a warm embrace. "You're not alone, Mikhs. Let us be your strength."

Mikha broke down, her sobs echoing through the room. "I don't know how to live without her," she cried.

"We'll figure it out together," Jhoanna said softly. "One step at a time."

As the days turned into weeks, Mikha began to slowly piece her life back together. She started therapy, cut back on her projects, and took time to rediscover herself. It was a painful journey, but one she didn't have to walk alone.

There were still moments of intense pain, especially when the group gathered. Ate Aiah and Mikha managed to maintain a civil relationship, but the strain was evident. Their interactions were cordial, almost too polite, a stark contrast to the intimate connection they once shared. Every now and then, a fleeting look of longing would pass between them, a silent acknowledgment of what had been lost.

One evening, during a group dinner, Ate Aiah and Mikha found themselves seated across from each other. The conversation flowed around them, but there was a tension between them. Mikha, mustering her courage, spoke up, her voice trembling slightly. "Ate Aiah, how have you been?"

Aiah looked up, her eyes softening. "I've been okay, Mikha. Taking things one day at a time. And you?"

Mikha nodded, her hands shaking slightly. "The same. It's been hard, but I'm trying to move forward."

Ate Aiah smiled sadly. "I'm glad you're finding your way. I always knew you were strong."

It was a brief exchange, but it carried the weight of all their shared memories and unspoken feelings. The group watched, holding their breaths, hoping for a moment of reconciliation, but understanding that healing would take time.

One night, as we sat around a bonfire, Mikha shared her progress. "It's still hard," she admitted, looking into the flames. "But I'm starting to see a future again, a future where I can be happy."

Ate Aiah, sitting across from her, nodded with tears in her eyes. "I'm proud of you, Mikha Lim. We all are."

In that moment, the bonds that held us together felt unbreakable. We had weathered storms, faced heartbreak, and emerged stronger.

Later that night, as Jhoanna and I lay under the stars, she turned to me, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "We've been through so much, Princess. I can't imagine my life without you."

I held her close, my heart full. "And you'll never have to. Forever and ever, remember?"

"Forever and ever," she whispered, her voice filled with love and hope.