BongLeni Anthologies

Of Rain and Regret

(Birthday ANGST, HAHAHA lolz - Thea)

Leni sits in the quiet, staring out the window at the gray sky, her thoughts drifting like the rain that falls relentlessly outside. She clutches the pen in her hand, unsure where to begin. It's been days since she made the decision to write this letter, but every time she sat down to do it, the words seemed to slip away, too heavy to express, too painful to frame.

But now, there is no avoiding it. The silence between them has grown so vast that even the thought of closing the gap feels impossible. She can almost hear the faint echo of his voice in her mind, but it's distant now—so distant that it doesn't even feel like his anymore.

She shuts her eyes, trying to quiet her racing thoughts, but it's the memories that come flooding in. She remembers the first time their paths crossed—just two faces in a room full of people, yet the connection was undeniable. He, the son of a man whose shadow stretched long over the nation; she, the daughter of a humble public servant, a woman who had already been forged by expectations. She recalls how, at that moment, their worlds felt like opposite ends of a spectrum—yet, in some strange way, they were both searching for the same thing: a brief reprieve, a moment of authenticity outside the roles they were expected to play.

Leni leans back in her chair, her fingers absently tracing the edge of the pen. She remembers their last conversation, the one where they sat in silence for what felt like hours, both of them too afraid to speak the truth that lingered between them. She can still feel his gaze, intense and searching, almost as if he was waiting for her to say something—anything—that would allow them to bridge the chasm of expectations they both carried.

That day, the weight of everything became unbearable. She remembers the way her heart beat faster whenever he came near, the way the simplest touch—his hand brushing hers, a fleeting moment—sent a surge of electricity through her. But they couldn't act on it. The world they lived in had no room for such indulgences. Duty, legacy, and the crushing burden of history had long since cemented their fates.

Leni's mind drifts to the lake house, that one afternoon when the world felt distant, and for a moment, it was just the two of them. She had thought, just for a second, that maybe this could be real. That maybe, outside the suffocating expectations, they could have something just for themselves. But it was fleeting. Like everything else between them, it was doomed to end before it ever truly began.

With a deep breath, she picks up the letter again, knowing this will be her last chance to say what needs to be said, though she wishes she didn't have to say anything at all. The pain of it all is too much, but somehow, she feels like writing it down is the only way she can let go of the memory. The memory of them.

She begins to write.

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Dear Bongbong,

I've written this letter over and over again, each time hoping the words would come out differently, but they never do. Maybe that's the point. Because in this moment, there is nothing right about what I'm about to say. Nothing right about this situation we've found ourselves in—where silence speaks louder than words, yet both feel impossible to avoid.

As I sit here, watching the rain tap against the window, I realize how much time has passed since we last spoke. The world moves on, people come and go, but inside, it feels like time stopped the moment we parted. That afternoon lingers with me, heavy and unresolved, like a ghost I can't shake. I still hear your voice, faint and distant, as if you were just here, sitting beside me, your presence filling the space between us. Yet it's an echo now—fading, gone, leaving only the silence that has grown so loud.