Kuya Mark (not my real name) and I weren't close back then. He was just my sister's boyfriend, he was quiet. Kind. Grumpy sometimes, but always made an effort to make my sister happy.
We got to know each other better when my sister asked me to watch over their son. He had COVID, and Kuya Mark took care of everything. That's when our frequent conversations began.
Hindi ko alam kung kailan eksaktong nagbago ang pakiramdam ko. Una, inosente lang: "Uy, ang bait pala talaga ni Kuya Mark." Tapos, "Grabe, bakit mas naiintindihan niya ako kaysa sa iba?" Hanggang sa dumating ang araw na, habang umiiyak ako sa problema ko sa boyfriend ko, niyakap niya ako.
We will not let go.
Sometimes at night, while Ate was sleeping, we would talk. I don't know if I was just being mean, or desperate. Maybe both. It got to the point where the abnormal became normal. We would go out secretly. I was at home when Ate wasn't. She thought it was just a sibling bonding.
But the truth is? I'm a traitor. Not just to him — but to myself.
I know it's wrong. But because I'm so sad about my own life, it feels like Kuya Mark is the only one who makes me feel valued.
Until I got used to lying.
There are nights when I cry alone, especially when Ate tells me how blessed she is to have Kuya Mark as her husband. Then she calls me “my dearest brother.”
It hurts. I sink deeper into guilt. Sometimes I want to admit it, but I'm afraid — not just of his anger, but of his self-hatred… because he trusted me.
But I know that no matter how many apologies I say, it won't be able to make up for what I did.
We got caught
There is no secret that cannot be revealed. One day, I left my phone in the living room. A message came. "I miss you." — from Kuya Mark.
Sister caught it.
No shouting. No kicking. He just remained silent. He stood up, took a deep breath, and left the house.
After that, it was like my world froze. It was like I wanted to disappear. I wanted to take everything back.
But it's too late.
I left home. I didn't talk to Brother Mark anymore. Not because I didn't want to — but because I knew I had to. I didn't want to continue destroying a life that could have been saved.
I went to counseling. Not to forget, but to understand why I did it. And most importantly, to learn how to start over.
I didn't try to be forgiven right away. I started by simply admitting to myself that I was wrong.
And little by little, I learned to love myself without having to take from others.
It's been over a year since that happened. I haven't heard from Kuya Mark. Sister, she has a new life too. She's happy, based on her posts. I always pray that those smiles are real.
Me? I haven't made much progress yet, but I feel lighter. There's a little peace now. I'm no longer the woman who's willing to destroy a home just to fill her own emptiness.
Now, I work in the province. Life is quiet. I still have a lot to deal with — but I am more true to myself. And I choose the right more, even when it's difficult.
I won't judge you. Because I know that sometimes, it's not just the heart that's at fault — but also the confusion, the fear, the sadness.
But hopefully, you choose to leave while there is still something good left. Choose to start even if it hurts. Because the day will come... you will also be able to forgive yourself.
And as I am doing now, you will learn to love again — without having to break anything.
