“Swipe Right, Left Hanging, Came Back Running”

From Despair to Euphoria

The weight of the world sat heavy on my chest.

I stared at the screen, my name still missing.

My hands were cold. My body felt numb.

I failed.

I failed.

A slow, suffocating emptiness swallowed me whole, an ache so deep it threatened to consume me.

Tears blurred my vision. My hands trembled as I struggled to breathe.

All the sacrifices… all the sleepless nights… all the dreams I had built for myself, for my family—

Gone.

In that moment, I had never felt so small. So broken.

I wanted to disappear.

And then—

A ping.

A message from my best friend.

I almost ignored it, but something in me, something desperate for a distraction, made me open it.

“Congratulations!”

My brows furrowed. My heart pounded in confusion.

Another message followed.

A photo.

PRC website.

My breath hitched. My pulse roared in my ears.

And there—

There it was.

My name.

MY NAME. MADELYN DIAZ ESPARTERO

I gasped.

I clutched my phone so tightly my knuckles turned white.

This… this wasn’t real.

I blinked.

Looked again.

Still there.

I let out a shaky breath, my hands covering my mouth as a choked sob escaped.

And then it hit me—

I PASSED.

I screamed.

I screamed so loudly the whole room turned to me in shock.

I jumped.

I cried.

I fell to my knees, laughter and sobs tumbling from my lips all at once.

The pain, the fear, the self-doubt—it all shattered in that moment.

A flood of emotions crashed over me, so powerful, so overwhelming, I could barely breathe.

I felt weightless. Alive.

Like I had just been pulled from the depths of despair and thrust into the light.

I had never felt happiness like this before—so raw, so pure, so unexplainable.

I clutched my chest, my heart hammering wildly as fresh tears streamed down my cheeks.

Thank you, Lord.

I did it.

I DID IT.

I hugged my knees, my body still trembling from the storm of emotions crashing over me. My breaths came in ragged gasps as I wiped the tears that wouldn’t stop falling.

With shaking hands, I reached for my phone.

I needed to hear them.

I needed my family.

As the screen lit up, I saw their names already on standby, waiting—my parents, my siblings, even my little nieces and nephews, all gathered on the other end.

The moment the call connected, I switched to the front camera. My face was still wet with tears, my voice raw with emotion, but none of it mattered.

I took a deep breath, then screamed, “Ma, I made it! I am now a teacher!”

For a second, there was silence.

Then—

Crying.

Sobs.

Shaky, muffled gasps of disbelief.

My mother covered her mouth, her shoulders shaking as tears streamed down her face. My father, the man who rarely showed emotions, wiped his eyes, his voice thick with pride.

“Gang…” My mother’s voice cracked. “Thank you… thank you for reaching your dream. We are the proudest.”

My heart clenched. My vision blurred again.

I bit my lip, trying to hold back another wave of tears.

My siblings were crying, their voices overlapping as they showered me with congratulations. My nephews and nieces, too young to fully understand, clapped their tiny hands and cheered my name.

The weight of their love, their pride, pressed against my chest so tightly it hurt.

In that moment, all the pain, all the struggles, all the sacrifices I had made flashed before me.

The sleepless nights.

The self-doubt.

The breakdowns.

The times I wanted to give up.

It was all worth it.

I clenched my fist.

This wasn’t just my victory.

This was for them.

For my parents, who worked endlessly to support me.

For my siblings, who believed in me even when I doubted myself.

For the younger version of me, who once thought she wasn’t enough.

I looked at my mother, her eyes shining with unfiltered joy, and whispered a silent promise to myself—

For now, I will do my best revenge.

I will improve myself.

I will become someone they will always be proud of.

I inhaled sharply, wiped my tears, and smiled—because this was only the beginning.

Still overwhelmed with joy, my mind drifted back to him—his birthday. No matter how much I tried to push the thought away, it lingered. And like a desperate girl grasping at something already slipping away, I found myself writing him an email. A birthday message. A silent whisper into the void, hoping—just hoping—that maybe, somehow, he’d still hear me.

Subject: Happy Birthday, Sam

Hi, Sam.

I don’t even know if you’ll read this, but I have to write it anyway.

Happy birthday. I hope you’re doing well. I hope today is filled with laughter, with warmth, with everything that makes you happy. You always liked keeping your birthdays simple, but I still wish I was there to celebrate with you, even just for a while.

I don’t know why I’m writing this. Maybe because, despite everything, you’re still the first person that comes to my mind when something important happens. Maybe because I still care—more than I should, more than I want to admit.

I passed, Sam. I passed the board exam. I wanted you to know that. I wanted you to be proud of me, even if you’re not here anymore. Even if you left me with nothing but silence.

It’s funny, isn’t it? How even after all these days, even after all the unanswered messages, I still find myself writing to you. Like some desperate girl who refuses to let go of something that was never hers to begin with.

But maybe that’s just who I am. Maybe that’s just what you did to me.

Wherever you are, I hope you’re happy. I hope you have everything you wanted. And I hope, even just for a second, you remember me too.

Happy birthday, Sam.

-M.

I let out a deep sigh, my fingers trembling as I hovered over the send button. For a moment, I hesitated, as if sending this email would somehow make my emotions more real—more pathetic. But what was there left to lose? With a heavy heart, I pressed send, watching as my words disappeared into the void, unsure if they would ever reach him.

I stared at my screen for a few more seconds, as if expecting a response that would never come. Then, swallowing the lump in my throat, I shut my phone off and forced myself to move. I dragged my weary body toward the shower, letting the cold water hit me like a slap back to reality. Today, I had to go to work. Today, I had to pretend I was okay.

I stepped into the office, and immediately, the room erupted in cheers.

"Congratulations!"

"We have a new LPT!"

"You did it!"

Everywhere I turned, there were bright smiles, warm hugs, high-fives, and endless words of praise. My colleagues beamed at me, their excitement contagious, their voices filled with genuine happiness for me. I smiled back, nodding, thanking them over and over again. I should be happy—this moment should feel like the sweetest victory.

But why does it feel so hollow?

I kept my smile plastered on my face, but deep inside, I felt a gaping void that no amount of cheers could fill. I wanted to celebrate. I wanted to scream and jump with pure joy, to feel the overwhelming euphoria of success. But no matter how hard I tried, something was missing.

Someone was missing.

I had imagined this moment countless times—the day I would finally earn my license, the day I would prove to myself and everyone else that I was capable, that I was enough. And in all those versions, I had pictured him there, smiling at me, telling me how proud he was. I had imagined his voice, his words of encouragement, his warm embrace, whispering, "I knew you could do it."

But he wasn’t here.

There was no message. No call. No sign that he even remembered.

My chest tightened, and for a brief second, I allowed myself to feel the ache. The weight of his absence pressed down on me like a cruel reminder of how much he had distanced himself, of how easily he had left me behind.

Maybe I was foolish to keep hoping. Maybe I was foolish to think he would care.

I took a deep breath, blinking away the sting in my eyes.

Not now. Not here.

I had to move forward, with or without him. I had to embrace this moment, even if the person I wanted to share it with the most would never be part of it.

Maybe it was time to close this chapter.

Maybe, just for now… I had to let him go.

Lost in the depths of my thoughts, I barely noticed the world around me. The noise of the office faded, replaced by the deafening silence inside my mind.

Then—beep.

The sound jolted me back to reality. My heart pounded against my chest as I hastily reached for my phone, my fingers trembling ever so slightly.

An unknown number.

I swallowed hard, my breath hitching as my eyes scanned the screen.

"I miss you."

Just three words. Three simple words. But they shattered me.

My vision blurred as a lump formed in my throat. My heart, which I had been trying so hard to silence, betrayed me—beating erratically, clinging onto the hope I had forced myself to bury.

Could it be him? Was it really him?

A thousand emotions crashed over me all at once—relief, longing, pain, anger. I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I wanted to pretend that those words meant nothing.

But they did.

They meant everything.