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How do I begin a story I never wanted to end? I have thought about this a million times, but every time I try to write even a single paragraph, I stop. I stop not because I have no idea how to narrate our story, but because I fear that the completion of this narrative would also mean the finality of our love story.

He always liked my writing, probably because he loved me at the time. I promised him once I would write a book about us and give it to him, but I never really got around to starting it.

His name is Emmet.*

He is Chinese, and from a traditional family at that. I don't know why I always get attracted to Chinese guys, but that is the way it is. We met online when he was helping me troubleshoot my phone, and after an exchange of messages, we agreed to meet. There was something about him I found comforting that made me want to know him more.

A lot of thoughts ran in my head when I was about to meet him for the first time. What if he does not like me? What if I do not like him? What if he turns out to be creepy? Moments later, there he was. I saw him searching for me in the crowd, I was talking to him on the phone as I was coming near him. I was able to take a good glance at him. He looked...amazing. And when he saw me, I saw the most sincere smile I have ever seen in the world.

Loving him was both a struggle and a reward.

He made it clear from the beginning that there could never be an us because his family wants a Chinese girl for him and we won't stand a chance, or maybe better said, I don't stand a chance. But what the heck, right? Should I give up just like that?

My mind and heart would always fight but silly me, I'd always go with what made me happy. Our relationship was on and off because every time he felt I was hurting, he would ask me to give up. But I thought that it would be better to get hurt and still collect more memories of him, of us, rather than get hurt and live with the what-ifs. I'd get hurt just the same anyway, so I chose the former. At least that would buy me some more time to be with him.

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He used a lot of terms of endearment, which I've gotten used to: Prinsesa Antukin, my childhood sweetheart, my soulmate, Little Miss Anti-Payong, Little Miss Assistant TL, my sweet cheeks and a lot more. We would chat and sometimes call each other until one would fall asleep (usually me). He went on a side trip to Dangwa to get me a dozen of flowers on the night of my birthday. I never really liked flowers, and yet I thought they are the most beautiful I have ever seen.

He was the perfect boyfriend. And I couldn't ask for more.

We also had our share of fights but they did not last that long. It is rather funny how living and loving with an expiration date can create the urgency to fix and not prolong issues so as to spend more meaningful and quality time with the ones you love. This had been how our love grew. We did not waste time feeling bad or quarreling because our relationship lived by the hour, by the minute. By every minute.

We learned to cherish moments well and understood each other better. We did everything twice as much. We loved each other more, we laughed harder, smiled to each other wider, hugged more often, kissed like there's no tomorrow, make love like it's the last time. Yes, every time we see each other, I made sure I gave it my all because there might not be a next time.

Our love story ended a year or so ago from today.

On his birthday, I sent him a seven-part greeting. At that time, we had already agreed to go our separate ways, but hey I was stubborn. So everyday, exactly a week from his birthday, I wrote down 7 things I loved about him. I scheduled them to be sent 5 minutes apart, the last text sent exactly at 12 midnight on his birthday.

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In the messages, I told him all the reasons why I loved him: for being so keen with details that he'd remember almost every insignificant detail of our conversations, for never making me feel insecure because he, too is confident in his own skin, and for his honesty, that he never led me on to think we had a chance at forever. I’ll always appreciate the way he cared for me. I was used to looking after myself right when I started living independently, but he showed me how a woman should be cared for, that I shouldn't just settle for less, that I should demand respect. I will continue to pray that He finally gives him the woman he truly deserves. Because he deserves only the best.

I still get reminded of our memories by the places we've been in, and things we did together. It still pains me when I think about us. A little less now, as time goes by. As they say, the pain never really goes away, you just get used to it.

He is now happily married to a Chinese girl. Finally my birthday wish for him came true. I asked God to give him the happiness he deserved, even if it means I won't be part of it. I wished he be given someone to love him longer than I was allowed to. I prayed for his happily-ever-after rather than my own. But I still wish to see him one day, in another universe, a different time, when we can finally continue our love story, where I get to be his princess and him, my ever after.

*The names have been changed due to the sensitive nature of the story.
Minor edits have been made by the Femalenetwork.com editors.

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