A girl asked me, "why is it that despite how big my love is, he still left?"
I answered, "because it's not enough."
I couldn't look at her in the eyes so I stared at my hand instead. "Because he doesn't love you anymore."
And then she was silent for a long time. I didn't hear another word, so when I summoned the strength to finally look at her, relief washed through me when I saw that she wasn't crying. Instead she was staring at the pink sky with a blank expression, maybe thinking of a hundred things and asking the stars starting to show up a thousand questions. I did the same thing and looked above the clouds.
"Because, you know, it's not about how much we love the person." I started, remembering things. "It's not even about how happy we were or how perfect we felt when we're with them. When people fall out of love, I learned that they kind of drift away, like an island being separated to another. Something just stands between the both of you and everything just won't reach them anymore like it used to. You can shout all you want, you can tell her you love her a million times, but the gap's too much that the wind can no longer carry your voice. And while you're busy scrambling for scraps just to light a fire and send a signal, they're starting over on their own, building a new hut and planting new trees. I honestly don't know how they can do that knowing they left someone behind, but I eventually stopped wondering and just started to work on my own island. Everyday I would water my plants and decorate my home, hoping it'll be beautiful enough that when someone eventually comes around, she'll just choose to stay everyday and we can watch a million sunsets on the shore."
There was silence for a moment and then she whispered, "that sounds beautiful."
I smiled, looking at the stars. "It is."
—Jun Mark Patilan