The best of Love. Life.
The happiness of having someone stand by your side. The beauty of quiet love. The realization of moving on.
These are among the most read stories of “Love. Life.” when it first ran on our website from February 2015 to May 2016.
Article continues after this advertisementToday, on Valentine’s Day, we are re-launching the online weekly column, which features contributed personal essays on the different kinds of love.
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Article continues after this advertisement1. The last time I will write about us
This will be the last time that I will write about you. About us.
Happiness, as they say, is a choice.
Happiness was when I chose to sleep over at your place one stormy night, when a typhoon named “Milenyo” was threatening to ravage the city. We were covered in pitch-black darkness as the power had gone out, with only a single candle illuminating our faces yellow with its flickering light. It was the start of something beautiful, something magical that would spark a million and one lights deep inside the two of us. READ MORE
2. Quiet love
I didn’t grow up in an openly sweet household. I don’t recall my parents saying “I love you” to each other on a daily basis, nor do I remember seeing them hug and kiss in front of other people. There was no abundance of flowers during anniversaries, no attention-grabbing cards and teddy bears, no elaborate surprises engineered with friends.
This lack of romance might seem baffling and unacceptable to a generation whose idea of love involves flash mobs and viral videos and a deluge of couple selfies on Facebook. Nowadays it seems that if you don’t express your love loudly enough, it doesn’t count. READ MORE
He is getting married. I am so excited for this road he has chosen to take.
We have rekindled our friendship some two, maybe three years back. I only met him once during those years, when I flew to Manila for a short visit. He indulged in fetching me at the airport, taking me to my cousin’s boarding house where I stayed, and meeting up with our other old friend for lunch in a popular fast-food joint in Libertad. Since then we only talked on Facebook, or through text, very seldom in phone calls. The last time I heard his voice was when he called me up weeks after Supertyphoon “Yolanda” hit the country. He was worried about my whereabouts. His mom was too. READ MORE
