Welcome to #SimpolQuick — where we tell short stories of love, life, and little heartbreaks. In every tale, we uncover a slice of emotion set in our own backyard. These are stories for anyone who’s ever felt a little too much and said a little too late. Remember, your existence matters in every tale.
There was always this idea of you — the smart, quiet, grumpy yet beautiful girl who, in an instant, made my heart flutter. I used to wonder: can someone like you, who seemed to carry the world with such grace, ever feel unsure about anything? With just one look, my heart raced — like I was about to launch a nuclear bomb, except it was just me, falling. Hard. Yet, in all of this, your existence matters more than you know.
One lazy afternoon at a cafe in Katipunan, you asked me, “If you were an object, what would you be?” I said, “An umbrella.” You blinked, a half-smile forming. “Why?”
“Because whether it shines or rains, you’d still want me near,” I said, teasing. “For your own good, of course. Only for you, because your existence matters so much to me.”
You laughed, then replied, “I’d be a mirror.”
“To reflect others?” I asked.
“Because I copy people,” you said, straight-faced. It made me laugh, the way you always do — like slipping a joke under a closed door. But in that moment, I wanted to be a mirror too. Not to imitate, but because I couldn’t see myself without you, and that’s when I realized how much your existence matters to me.
I don’t believe in love at first sight — but that’s only because I’m a liar. How could I not fall for someone whose beauty should belong to stories, not reality? And yet there you were, making real life better than any dream. Since the day you walked in, you’ve occupied my thoughts like a melody I can’t stop humming. Your existence matters in every note of my life.
Earlier today, while we were stuck in traffic inside a packed P2P bus on EDSA, a girl beside me kept touching my arms, holding onto me, pressing her cheek against my back like we were lovers. I didn’t know if it was my perfume or if she assumed something else, but every second felt like I was crawling out of my own skin. You, sitting across the aisle, laughed at first — that mischievous grin lighting up your whole face. But as time passed, I saw it: the way your brows furrowed, concern breaking through the comedy.
After what felt like 40 minutes of silent torment, you leaned over and whispered, “Go to the bathroom. I’ll take your seat when you’re gone.”
I stared at you. Of course — anything for you.
I returned, pretending to be annoyed, playing the part. But I couldn’t hide it. I smiled. No one else would’ve done that. No wonder I fell for a woman like you.
I just want you to know — you’ve made me feel more loved in a month than someone else ever did in years. Your existence matters to me more than words can express.
Do you feel it too? Or are you just this kind to everyone?
I used to not care.
But now I do.
You make me feel complete. And no matter the odds, I’ll be here for you — because that’s exactly how you make me feel.
Editor’s Note: Some loves never declare themselves out loud, yet still manage to say everything. In a city of chaos, sometimes the smallest acts of care — switching seats, an inside joke, a borrowed umbrella — are the clearest signs of affection. And perhaps, that’s where love often begins: not in grand gestures, but in the unspoken ways we say, “I’m here and your existence matters.”
