Based on my family and friends who have experienced living in Manila, that city feels like the Casanova-red-flag boy who has family issues in Wattpad that you’d willingly risk your love with. Not just because he’s cute and has the “I can fix him” vibe, but because you will be drawn to him on a deeper level. The kind where a brief look could capture you, but in return, you have to condition your heart that you should be satisfied with those glances alone. No more digging further.
I came from a family that’s very strict. And to add fuel to that raging fire, I was born physically weak. Well, I don’t have any serious and life-threatening illness. It’s just that I became a regular at nearby clinics and public hospitals when I was a kid. Perhaps the only thing my mother is thankful for whenever I’m sick is that I always obey her and my doctor’s prescriptions. I don’t care how bitter the medicine was; I just want to heal within a week and not miss my classes again.
To tell you the truth, I hated Manila when I first got there. I was seven during those times.
I didn’t like the mall. I didn’t like the buildings. I didn’t like the public transportation because instead of wrecking the burden of working Filipinos when it comes to commuting, it just makes it worse. In addition, I didn’t like the four-hour commute from our province to my uncle’s house in Sta. Mesa. And worst of all, I didn’t like the way I threw up in their living room as soon as we stepped in it. It was my first time riding a bus, and I, obviously… didn’t like the experience.
Because of that, I endured the multiple exams from different subjects when I was in high school. Why? I don’t like going on school field trips. And if you don’t want to go, you’ll take that 60-item examination. Growing up, I liked the way I lived in the province. It’s peaceful for a teenager who yearns for the sounds of waves after spending most of her time on her study table, memorizing and familiarizing the terms and lessons that might be tackled for tomorrow’s classroom discussion.
Here’s the catch—I met the Casanova again.
It was sometime in March 2023. I traveled with my friends to Manila for our licensure examination. Even though I was there years ago, nothing seems to change. The traffic was still heavy, the noise is just as much as I remember, and more buildings welcomed me. I don’t know what actually happened, but the city life was pulling me in this time. Perhaps, even if the city wouldn’t change itself for you, a part of you would change to continuously dream for it.
Aside from praying for getting a teaching license on my first try, I was silently hoping to live a life in Manila. I heavily romanticized it at first. I was hoping to live independently, meet new people, and be familiar with the world they claimed as “chaos.” So, I did my research. The cafes closed at midnight; most are even open 24/7. The streets don’t sleep. The rent and utilities would devour my monthly salary. Most importantly, I have to start somewhere. Okay, but where?
From there, Manila and I are in a situationship. We’re not officially together for now, but he sure does lure me in with opportunities and strangers on the Internet I wish to meet. However, he also terrifies me from committing. The lack of bravery, the apartment listings, the salary offers from small private schools that have little to no difference from the province, and the pressure of making it all worth it—just like any other situationship, I kept on building these mixed signals and commitment issues.
In the middle of this dilemma, I realized something important. I don’t want to leave this situationship for the sake of shrinking my dreams in the quiet space of fresh air and shorelines stitched on my skin. This is my first time being the toxic one; we couldn’t get past this talking stage because of me. I keep him in my shadow, I flirt with the idea of moving out, and I imagine how many reinventions I’d have once I gave him the look that says, “Yes! I’m madly in love with you. Let’s be together forever!”
Manila is the one who’s been waiting to make it official for years. He isn’t the shining armor I badly want to turn into my savior because he wears the hard layers of shield I need to fight with him. Loving him means running even if his pace is just his normal walk, knowing he’ll never slow down when I get tired. And so, I keep him in a situationship. I want him to watch me start somewhere peaceful at first, and when I finally have the courage to embrace the chaos and turn towards him, I hope he’s still there.
Until then, Manila remains the almost-love of my life.
Close enough to imagine a future with, yet far enough to wonder what could have been.
Buy me a coffee!
I am Cloud and I write personal essays, poems, and reflections about life in general. This piece is published under a section named “Nimbus” under my publication, “To all the words I couldn’t utter,” This section opens space for carrying the weight of sorrow, struggle, and the rains that fall within.
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