Within the Walls

The historic heart of Manila - Intramuros. Inside these walls are stories of hope, war, destruction, youth, and love. And one of those stories is ours.

Inside these walls that withstand the trials of time, I first saw you. You whose smile is as golden as the streaks of daylight between the cracked stones, and whose eyes, with the depth of untold stories, disappear whenever you smile. I was within the bounds of Casa Manila, in front of a well that holds countless whispers of wishes.

"Go ahead, make a wish." 

"No thanks. That's not true."

"Come on, just try it."

And so, I tossed a coin and closed my eyes.

"I wish for a love as enduring as the stones surrounding me, a love that echoes through the ages." I whispered, as a closeted hopeless romantic.

Little did I know that the moment I opened my eyes, my wish came true.

I saw you, your hair the color of midnight effortlessly flowing around your face, with black glasses sitting lightly on your nose. Your eyes closed, a smile drawn on your face. When you opened your eyes, they met mine, unaware that this moment would mark the beginning of our story.

Our love blossomed within the ancient stones of Intramuros. We rode a bamboo bike through the narrow streets of the walled city, the breeze embracing us like I embraced you from behind while you steered the bicycle. Your soft hum served as our music, and the world around us blurred into a backdrop. Our countless nights were spent lingering outside Manila Cathedral, our fingers entwined with dirty ice cream in hand. We danced under the gentle patter of raindrops while the church's lights gleamed, laughing like the universe were ours to conquer. I captured your beauty in poetry as you captured mine in digital film, amidst the greenery of Puerta del Parian. At Fort Santiago, we watched sunsets, the golden sceneries of tomorrow, and stayed until the stars adorned the sky. Under a tree softly illuminated, we spoke of dreams, passions, life, and the future we thought we would have -  whispering promises of forever.

Every corner of Intramuros held a piece of our story.

But love, like history, is often marked by change. And in war, loss is inevitable; you couldn't escape it. You lost the battle of life. The day you left, the sky wept for us. The streets that once echoed with our laughter and murmurs of our love are now filled with the silence of your absence. I wandered aimlessly, retracing our steps, hoping to find a piece of you in the places we once cherished.

If only these walls could speak, they would tell the remnants of our love. Our names are carved into these walls. Written on these walls are histories, and we are part of them.

Our love lives on; you live on, within the walls.