Prologue
I never imagined that a single right swipe could unravel so many “what ifs” in my mind. I wasn’t even looking for love when I downloaded that app. After a breakup that left me more confused than healed—a one-night stand that somehow spiraled into a one-month relationship that I knew in my heart was never meant to be—I was simply curious. I had been a leader in school, among my friends, and in my family, always in control, always steering the ship. But after that relationship ended, I found myself adrift, uncertain of what I truly wanted.
In those days, I swiped left and right without much thought. It was just a way to pass the time, a distraction from the loneliness that crept in when I was alone with my thoughts. I was an overthinker—haunted by “what ifs” that spun in endless loops. What if I got hurt again? What if he wasn’t genuine? What if I fell for someone only to discover hidden secrets, like a secret family or that he was only with me for convenience? Each match on the app brought with it a silent question that echoed in my mind.
Then, by chance, I matched with him. His profile was understated—no flashy claims, just a few genuine words and a smile that promised more than just casual conversation. Our messages began innocently enough. At first, it was just small talk: greetings, exchanging thoughts about the weather, silly banter about our daily routines. But as weeks turned into months, our conversations deepened.
I was in the thick of preparing for my licensure exam—a time when I needed all the focus I could muster. In between study sessions and endless notes, his messages were like gentle breaks that let my mind wander into a world that was warm and inviting. He listened, really listened, to everything I had to say. Every time he messaged, I found a bit of solace in his words. I started to feel seen, appreciated in a way that I hadn’t expected.
For six months, our digital connection blossomed into something I couldn’t ignore. Every evening, as I reviewed my notes and solved endless practice questions, I’d check my phone and smile at his messages. There was a growing excitement mixed with a nagging doubt—a constant questioning of what if this wasn’t real, or what if it was too good to be true? I was an overthinker, after all, and every spark of hope was tempered by caution.
Then, one day, he said something that made my heart race: “I want to meet you.” His words were simple, yet they carried the weight of every hidden desire I had locked away. I remember sitting in my study, surrounded by textbooks and scattered notes, feeling the room spin as the possibility of meeting him became more than just a fleeting thought. Against all the reservations that crowded my mind, I said yes.
The day he arrived was like a scene from a movie. I had memorized his picture, but seeing him in person was entirely different—he was taller, his smile more genuine, his eyes holding stories I yearned to know. For a few days, we explored the city together. We walked down bustling streets, shared meals in cozy little restaurants, and laughed until our sides ached. It was magical, as if all the pieces of my scattered heart were slowly coming together.
Yet, just when I began to believe in the magic of our newfound connection, everything changed. Almost as if by some cruel twist of fate, he vanished. No messages came for days. Then weeks. And eventually, for nine long months, there was nothing but silence. I was left with a void filled by endless “what ifs.” What if he had found someone else? What if he was never truly invested in what we had? What if I was simply a distraction for him?
The silence was deafening. I tried to convince myself that I was better off alone, that maybe he was never the one I should have trusted with my heart. My mind raced every night with doubts and fears—overthinking every possible scenario, no matter how irrational. I began to wonder if I was too intense, too full of questions, too prone to worry about every little detail.
Then, on Christmas Eve of 2023, I reached a breaking point. The festive season was meant to bring joy, yet I felt only the bitter sting of abandonment. In a moment of vulnerability and defiance, I sent him a simple message: “Merry Christmas.” I had made a promise to myself that if he didn’t reply, I would block him, erase his memory, and move on for good.
I waited, heart pounding, every minute stretching into an eternity. And then, as if the universe had decided to play one more trick, he replied. That one response shattered the long-held silence and sent my mind spiraling back into hope—and fear. How could someone who had been so distant suddenly reappear with the promise of a second chance?
Now, as the new year unfolds, he has visited me three times. Each visit is a bittersweet blend of joy and uncertainty. I’m drawn to him—his charm, his genuine interest, his ability to make me feel safe. Yet, the overthinking part of me is never at rest. I ask myself: What if he cheats because he’s far away? What if he has hidden parts of his life—a secret family or unresolved baggage—that he hasn’t told me about? What if his affection is merely out of convenience, and I’m just a placeholder in his life?
These “what ifs” haunt me every day. They make me wonder if falling for him again is a risk too high to take. The fear of vulnerability battles with the thrill of what might be. I’m caught between the longing for connection and the caution born from past heartbreak. Every time he smiles at me, every time our hands brush against each other, I feel a surge of hope that maybe this time, it will be different.
But I’m still an overthinker. The doubts linger in the back of my mind like shadows—quiet, persistent, and impossible to ignore. I know that if I let my guard down completely, I might lose myself in the abyss of uncertainty. Yet, the allure of his presence is so powerful that I’m tempted to risk it all—if only for a chance at a future where I can finally let go of my fears and embrace something real.
So here I stand, at the precipice of a new beginning, armed with nothing but hope and a mind full of questions. In the quiet after our shared moments, two worlds linger in the spaces between our breaths. I am Mads—a Filipina whose soul is woven from the vibrant threads of a thousand islands, where the sun paints each dawn with hope and the gentle hum of jeepneys fills the air with stories. And he—Sam—is an American, a man whose dreams are carried on wide-open skies, where every sunset whispers promises of distant horizons.
In his presence, the contrast between our worlds becomes a delicate dance of fate. His calm certainty meets my ever-questioning heart, bridging oceans and time zones with a warmth that defies distance. I find myself caught between the lingering doubts of past heartaches and the luminous promise of a future reimagined—a future where our differences become the very poetry that unites us.
This is my story—a tale of unexpected connections, painful goodbyes, and the hope of second chances. It’s a journey of self-discovery, where every “what if” challenges me to trust not just him, but also myself.
In this moment of fragile hope and cautious longing, I wonder: what will happen if I allow myself to fall again? Will I find solace in his arms, or will the echoes of the past drown out my newfound dreams? Only time will tell if the promises of a second chance can overcome the weight of my overthinking heart.
