It’s 9:52. The night is young yet the house is full. People are coming in and out of the front door. On a dim corner, behind the gate, a man is throwing up.
“I need a drink,” he thought of storming in but stopped at the sight a familiar face.
Five years— she never changed. Laughing with her head back, he guesses her black shirt still carries a statement. Like “Down With Big Brother” or “Go Queer”.
“Don’t,” the word came late and before he knew it, he was walking towards the one who got away. The dice is rolled. Fuck what ifs and the mutilated could-have-beens.
“On the worst-case scenario, at least I can act as drunk fool.”
Took this photo on a poetry night at a local coffee shop here in Cebu. The place was filled with too many hopeless romantics that night.