“Let’s eat out! HAHA,” read the message from Ate A, her energy radiating through the screen.
Without hesitation, I replied with a quick, “Game!”and practically flew down the stairs, excitement buzzing in my chest.
As soon as I stepped outside, another message arrived.
“Stay put! I’ll come pick you up.”
I smiled to myself, imagining her determined face.
But knowing her kindness, I didn’t want to be a bother.
So I shot back a playful reply.
“No need, Ate. I got this! HAHA.”
The street was empty, so I dashed across it, feeling like a kid with a secret mission.
I told her I was on my way, and before I knew it, there she was—waiting at the pharmacy, standing effortlessly beautiful.
A big grin stretched across my face the moment I saw her.
“Hai, Ate!” I greeted, waving like an overjoyed kid.
She flashed me one of those smiles that could make anyone’s day, and we fell into step together, chatting as if the world around us didn’t exist.
At first, it felt light and easy.
But the longer we walked, the more the world outside started to press in on me.
The steady hum of conversations, the distant honks of cars, the glances from people passing by—it all felt heavy, like a thousand eyes silently judging me.
A familiar knot tightened in my chest.
I tried to push the feeling away, but it crept in, uninvited, making my palms sweat and my heart beat faster.
I cleared my throat and confessed, “Ate, I don’t know why... but being out in public makes me so anxious.”
Her response was pure Ate—kindness wrapped in humor.
She told me silly stories and cracked jokes, like she had a magical way of sweeping away worries without even trying.
The weight on my chest slowly began to lift as our laughter bounced through the streets, drowning out the noise around me.
We roamed for a bit, trying to remember where she had parked her motor, giggling like two kids lost in the mall parking lot.
Moments like these felt so easy—simple, carefree, and honest.
Eventually, we decided to grab a meal at a nearby mall.
I hesitated for a moment, silently praying the food wouldn’t be too expensive.
The thought of her paying for me made me uneasy, not because I didn’t appreciate it, but because I never liked being a burden.
Yet, as we strolled toward the entrance, our conversation dissolved into more laughter.
Somehow, with Ate by my side, even walking felt lighter, as if we were floating above the worries of the world.
When we finally reached the restaurant, Ate ordered for both of us without a second thought.
I wanted to insist on paying my share, but she shut me down with a playful smirk and a firm, “Hoy, libre ko ‘to. No buts.”
Inwardly, I smiled, deciding to treat it as an early birthday gift—though she had no idea tomorrow is my birthday.
I never told her because I didn’t want to celebrate.
Birthdays were complicated, tangled with memories I wasn’t ready to revisit.
We found an empty table, and as soon as we sat down, the stories flowed freely.
I shared childhood memories with her.
Back then, she let us ride her motorbike and treated us to snacks, acts of kindness I never forgot.
And now, sitting across from her, I found myself marveling at how little she’d changed—still the same generous soul, always ready to share what she had.
As we ate, I couldn’t help but admire her beauty.
It puzzled me how she could ever think that no one would be interested in her.
The way she carried herself with effortless grace, the kindness she radiated, and that genuine smile—how could anyone resist falling for someone like her?
There was something captivating about her, something she didn’t seem to realize.
She was beautiful, not just on the outside but deep within, a rare kind of beauty that words couldn’t capture.
It was the way she made people feel seen, the way she gave without expecting anything in return, and the way her smile felt like sunshine on a cloudy day.
The conversation danced between us, filled with laughter that echoed through the restaurant.
I felt shy now and then, but Ate had this way of pulling me out of my shell with her teasing jokes and infectious energy.
For someone like me, who often felt invisible in crowded places, moments like these were rare gifts.
As we finished our meal and continued chatting, I felt something shift within me—a sense of lightness, a rare joy I hadn't experienced in a while.
The world outside didn’t seem so scary anymore, not when I was in the company of someone like her.
It wasn’t just a meal or a hangout. It was one of those moments I would carry with me—a quiet reminder.
Thank You, Lord, for people like her—people who bring light into my life without even knowing it.
YOU ARE READING
POV
Non-FictionLife often presents itself as a series of hurdles, each one taller than the last. These hurdles, though daunting, are not meant to break us but to shape us into who we are meant to be. It is through our darkest nights that we gain the strength to fa...
