Ayen called God knows how many times but I blew her off. No way was I going to talk about last night with her. I focused on transcribing my interviews and writing my pending articles for the week.

I’d been trying to finish a 2,000-word feature article due that afternoon and I hadn’t gotten past 1,000 words. The memories of that horrendous night with Lucas still bugged me. I knew I tried a little too hard and acted like a bumbling moron in trying to break the ice. I thought he’d be at least polite, but he turned out to be the most boring, ill-mannered person I’d ever met. No, wait. That would be my ex but Lucas is now a close second.

Where was the fifteen-year-old Basti Lobregat I fell for? The one who punched a bully in my defense?  Basti the Hero was gone and replaced by Lucas the Jackass.

“Someone’s in dreamland,” said Lloyd, my fellow staff writer, as he snapped his fingers in front of my face. “So, how did the date go?”

“Ugh, don’t ask,” I grumbled as I pounded the keys and hammered the words away.

I made the deadline—barely—and when I got out of the office, I saw Ayen waiting for me in the lobby. I was so out of it that I forgot it was yoga Wednesday, the night we go to the studio a few meters away from my office building. Good thing I had made it a habit to pack my yoga gear in case Ayen showed up for an impromptu yoga date. Wait, I went out on a date with Lucas on a Tuesday night? That made everything sillier.

“You didn’t return my calls. What’s up with you?” she snarled in her usual impatient manner.

“I was swamped.”

“So, how did it go with Lucas?” she asked, her eyes twinkling. “I thought, you know, maybe you slept over at his place. But Chad said Lucas was in an early hearing today.”

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t have sex on the first date, Ayen.”

“So, what happened?”

“It didn’t work out, obviously,” I said dejectedly. “If it was great, don’t you think I’d be yakking about it with you the moment it was over? What happened, you ask? Here’s what happened: he didn’t talk to me the whole time. You heard me. We didn’t talk. Swell guy, that Lucas.”

Ayen’s eyes turned into headlights.

“What?! Lucas is one of the friendliest, warmest guys I know,” Ayen snapped, incredulous.

“Well, his warm and friendly self either disintegrated or you’re imagining things,” I snapped back.

Sensing my foul mood, Ayen dropped the subject. Instead, after the calming yoga class that I badly needed, we talked about the list of things she had to do this weekend in preparation for the wedding. In no uncertain terms, I was made aware that I had to tag along in each and every one of them, which was fine with me because I wanted to forget that disastrous date with my childhood fantasy. She did a rundown of the tasks, particularly with our meeting with the wedding coordinator and the couturier. She emphatically added that I was the only person she’d rather have on her side through it all. Apart from Chad, of course.

As we pulled over in front of my apartment building, Ayen turned to me before I opened the car door to get out.

“Cara, I’m sorry about Lucas.”

“It’s not your fault. We didn’t click, that’s all.”

“I just want you to be happy,” she explained. “I’m worried about you. I think you’re drowning yourself in work since Oliver’s disappearing act. I simply want you to have fun and meet new people, you know?”

“Ayen, I am totally over Oliver,” I reassured her. “That’s all in the past now.”

***

Let me tell you something about my past. Oliver Sta. Maria and I were together for over three years. It was the longest relationship I’d had. Ayen introduced us as they were part of her large social circle. He was witty, funny, articulate and drop-dead gorgeous. Who was I not to fall? We talked for hours about anything from politics to entertainment gossip and it was a relationship that was borne out of genuine fondness. From simply hanging out, we fell in love and sealed the deal with a kiss inside a movie house. It was the stuff of romance novels and I was in seventh heaven.

We were happy for a long while and even talked about marriage at some point. It wasn’t going to happen soon, but we figured we were getting there.

One day, he surprised me with tickets to Boracay for our third anniversary. We checked in at a five-star hotel near the beach and spent three days on that beautiful island. We tried all the water activities and dined in the best restaurants. He took care of everything, which made room for suspicion. Was he about to pop the question? I was disappointed when the vacation ended and there was no proposal but I quickly got over it and savored the happiness I felt from just being with him for days. Once in Manila, Oliver drove me to the boarding house and kissed me goodbye before I got out of the car. I was floating as I entered the gate, still reeling from the marvelous three days of fun in the sun with the man I loved.

That was the last time I saw him.

I never heard from him after that. He went off the grid completely, which prompted me to call his mom. She was shocked that he went to the States without telling me. He wanted to oversee the new business the family was putting up there, she added, thus, the haste. I was livid and inconsolable. None of his friends knew why or when he left, not even Ayen.

I kept calling him but he wasn’t picking up. Later on, he turned off his phone or changed numbers, I don’t know. I emailed, sent messages over Facebook and got nothing. The world had gotten so small because of technology but there I was, unable to reach my boyfriend. A month later, he deactivated his Facebook and Twitter accounts and that was that.

When it became clear that I’d been dumped in the worst possible way, it felt like I had been hit by a truck. I was a mess, crying almost every night for four months, skipping meals, unable to concentrate at the finance job I hated. My parents implored me to move back into the family home for a while until I recovered while my four older brothers plotted revenge. I told all of them to calm down; it wasn’t the end of the world. I just needed time to heal.

Though it did feel like it was the end of the world, life had to go on. By the fifth month, I decided to make major changes. I was dumped and made to feel I didn’t even deserve to be broken up with. Still, I refused to believe I had anything to do with how Oliver treated me. His cowardice was his problem, not mine. Something in me refused to be defeated by heartbreak. Oliver wasn’t coming back but I wasn’t going to abandon me either.

I quit my soul-sucking job, moved out of the boarding house and temporarily stayed with my parents to help them with the sari-sari store until I found a new job I liked—and would compensate me well for my talent and hard work. I began to piece together my tattered life and filled my days and nights with activities I enjoyed such as gym sessions and yoga. I worked hard at flushing out all the toxins and negative emotions from my system. Within a month, I got hired in a reputable publishing house and began writing about a subject that was close to my heart: sports.

I lost a boyfriend but gained a new life. My heart was still damaged but all taped up and functioning. If only Ayen would stop fixing me up with gorgeous yet rude lawyers. If only that lawyer wasn’t someone from my childhood.