Cartoon by: Yanai De Leon
Published by: Shaina Pajarillo
Date Published: October 14, 2025
Time Published: 4:20 PM
Category : Prose
Theme : Prayer, the greatest and purest form of love
"I prayed for you, you know?"*
"Je t'aime." "Te amo." "Mahal Kita." Few of the many ways to express love to someone. Amidst the warmth these phrases bring, yours stood out, aimed straight at my soul: "I wished to the Gods above for you."
Inside a cafe where many lovers come and go, there I was, sitting alone. A place filled with jazz music, brewing coffee, clinking cups, and intimate conversations. It had become my place of comfort and peace—silently, it has also become my silent sanctuary. Yet, on a fine Thursday morning, you came, happily asking the bellman for my name and sitting across my table.
"You are my blessing," you said—so sudden yet so genuine.
"How come? I haven't even known you my whole life?" I uttered while flustered and confused. “Destiny, I guess?” you said with a smile. I used to laugh at the idea of destiny, but that morning planted a seed in me—one that would grow into faith years later, nourished by your presence.
I do believe in destiny now, because it has brought me you. Maybe it was the gods working together, pulling our strings closer as we yearn for each other.
Years have passed since that interaction at the cafe, yet my thoughts still linger for you. Your presence, how it brings comfort; your smile, how it shines even on the darkest days; and your soul, how it lights up mine.
Every moment with you felt like answered prayers I uttered a long time ago.
Each memory flickers like a lantern in the dark—those bento boxes with letters reminding me to smile, those reels you sent as I panicked over my work, those deep talks we had every single night when we're together, all of them. It all brings a smile to my face, a bittersweet and longing one.
I carry with me still the way you kept me as a trophy and as a gem to take care of. How I felt like I was your dearest as you spoke as if you wrote letters of endearment to mine. All of it was truly a devotion, heaven-sent indeed.
I still do remember how you said I was your blessing. Now that I have thought about it, maybe it is the opposite; you are my answered prayer. Perhaps it was love working in its purest form—a prayer. Our moment was a work of the gods answering their promise to me, sending you into that cafe, into my life.
Now, I pray once more—that you, my blessing, will never slip away from my life again. That my living prayer will remain by my side, through every brewing coffee and prayer together, beyond every storm, every dawn, even past life and death itself.
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