It was 2010 when I met the Moon.
She smoked cigarettes back then. We were both taking a two-month vocational course in Commercial Cooking at TESDA, from August to September. During breaks, she would eat at the small eatery just outside our training building.
I have to admit something.
I judged the book by its cover.
Back then, I hid behind the same excuse people often use: "I'm only human." My mind had already written a story about her before I even knew her, so I kept my distance.
She was one of the most genuine people I had ever met. The word genuine suddenly came to my mind while I was writing this, so I once asked my sister what it meant. She laughed and answered in Filipino, "Walang kaplastikang halo sa katawan." It's funny how English can say so much with one word, while Tagalog paints it with an entire image. Maybe the closest translation is: "There wasn't a single trace of pretense in her."
She was approachable, warm, and effortlessly kind.
It didn't take long before we became friends. We enjoyed our cooking classes together, but even more than preparing meals, we enjoyed each other's company. Somewhere between recipes and laughter, we became each other's daily conversation.
Then one day, she opened her heart to me.
She told me about the Astronaut.
According to her, he was romantic. He wrote beautiful poems, spoke words that made people feel loved, was gentle, thoughtful, caring, and above all, deeply loving.
"If people heard this," I thought, "they'd probably say that kind of person only exists in fairy tales."
But every fairy tale has its shadows.
Like yin and yang, she also showed me the darker side of the Astronaut's world. It hurt her deeply, yet she remained incredibly strong.
"Masyado kong mahal ang sarili ko," she once said. "Kaya malakas ang loob ko kahit iwan niya ako."
"I love myself enough to survive even if he leaves me."
I witnessed countless tears from someone everyone believed was brave.
As her friend, I knew that strength didn't mean she no longer needed someone beside her.
The Moon and the Astronaut kept talking during those days. The Astronaut made decisions that even I couldn't understand. It made me realize something painful.
Apparently, even true love isn't always enough.
Apparently, saying "I love you" isn't always enough.
People always have reasons.
"Hindi mo ako maiintindihan kasi wala ka sa sitwasyon ko."
Maybe those reasons were true.
Maybe I never truly understood the Astronaut.
Maybe I never fully knew the story they shared.
But as someone watching from the outside, I couldn't help asking myself:
Can't we leave behind the habits that keep hurting us for the person we already know is worth choosing?
Still, it's rare to find someone who treasures you as much as you treasure yourself.
Watching that kind of love slowly fall apart was heartbreaking.
But I wasn't there to interfere.
I wasn't there to choose for either of them.
I let the Moon cry on my shoulder until there were no tears left to hide.
Then one day, I heard the most exhausted sentence she had ever spoken.
"Hintayin niya na lang talagang maka-move on ako."
"Let him wait until I've finally moved on."
The Astronaut tried many ways to keep her.
But wanting someone isn't the same as choosing them.
Eventually, every heart reaches a crossroads where it has to decide what truly matters.
People say happiness is a choice.
But happiness also carries consequences.
Sometimes choosing yourself hurts someone else.
Sometimes choosing someone else means losing yourself.
Every story has its own circumstances.
No one else's judgment can fully measure another person's pain.
When I finally knew she could stand on her own, I quietly stepped away.
She had already made her decision.
She chose to be happy—for herself.
Before I left, I dedicated three songs to her.
The Long Goodbye by Ronan Keating.
Like I Never Loved You at All by Take That.
And Brave by Idina Menzel.
Some friendships are only meant to walk beside us for a chapter.
But even after the story ends, we still remember the people who once taught us what courage looks like.
And to me, courage will always look a little like the Moon.
