It was June 2001 and Seth Santiago sat inside the Schmidt's kitchen on a wooden chair before a similarly-styled dining table where the two of them spent most of their time together. He was crying as he looked at the empty chair next to him. She's gone. Kristina had been his life, his everything.

For the nth time, he had ran his fingers over all the things Kristina had touched in the final hours of her life: poetry books and Nicholas Sparks novels, pens and note pads for spontaneous compositions, pictures of themselves as kindergarten pupils in the old elementary school beside the creek, and, closest to her heart, the old violet notebook where she had written her poems. It was kept unmoved by her mother in that side of the kitchen.

It was almost four years ago, and as soon as the doctors diagnosed her of leukemia, they both knew it would all come to this. The treatment was often and consistent; she went to the hospital frequently and the doctors came to her house whenever she was not feeling well enough to go out. Family and friends gave her all the needed moral and financial support. However, no one expected that the cancer would weaken her seventeen-year-old body so quickly. It was as if keeping her alive was just making the agony longer for all the people closest to her.

Knowing she would soon leave him made it tough for Seth. When her body had come to its weakest state after what seemed like endless sessions of chemotherapy, she had protested on being confined in a hospital but instead wanted to spend her remaining days at home. Her mother and doctors obliged and so Kristina was sent home.

Seth was by her side all those times as he had requested to stay at Kristina's house. He had been helping her mother take care of her while he wrote his first novel. Unwillingly, he witnessed her pain and suffering, but couldn't do anything except hold her hand and just be there. Every day, he would play the guitar and sing her to sleep, trying his best to make her smile as often as he can. He fixed her meals, washed her clothes, and cleaned her room. On the bed, he would cry with her every now and then as they told each other stories and memories of their wonderful childhood. It always ended up with the two of them affirming their love for one another.

However, in the end, after her last ounce of strength was consumed, she surrendered to the disease. It was a traumatic night for Seth. He felt unbearable pain. It was her eighteenth birthday.

She couldn't speak, so there were no last words. She also couldn't move, so the only thing she did, and could do, that night was shed tears. Kristina was never someone who howled or screamed whenever she felt pain. She was always quietly shaking and crying as if taking all of it to herself, not wanting to share it with the people she loved. Knowing this broke Seth's heart even more.

He held her in his arms as he felt her last exhale, looking nothing like the girl he had fallen in love with while they were still children at the old elementary school beside the creek. Her mother wailed while calling her doctors.

Despite that, Seth loved her more at that moment than in any other moment before.

Kristina smiled a little as she looked at him before dying, indicating that she was at peace with what was about to happen. It was like she was trying to give Seth all the assurance he needed so he could move on with his life. Kristina was always like that, she always put the comfort of others before herself. She again reminded him to get to know God, something that Seth had always had a hard time figuring out in his head, as she did months before. Her mother's friend was a Baptist preacher and he visited them one day, sharing Jesus Christ's salvation story, which she accepted in her life when she was only thirteen.

It was almost three years since she died. Three long years, he thought. And my love for her is still the same. He was still crying. Those close to him would not believe it, he thought, not of Seth Santiago, whose emotions, they said, were locked away in some secret garden, except in writing, where he truly came to life.

"Want some coffee, Seth?" Mrs. Schmidt offered as she peeked inside the kitchen. "Thank you, Tita, I'm okay." Seth didn't notice the old woman watching him at the doorway until she spoke.

Kristina's father died of a heart attack when they were still in fifth grade so her mother was pretty much alone in the house. She was an only child, which is why the relationship with Seth was so cherished even by her mom. He visited Kristina's mother from time to time ever since her death, checking on her, and, of course, looking at the things Kristina left in the kitchen. Reminiscing. Wanting her again. He then pulled himself upright, wiped his eyes, willing the tears away.

Mrs. Schmidt looked at him thoughtfully then walked away.

I love her, I still do and always did, he thought. The only girl I've ever loved is gone, and I couldn't find my way ever since. Everywhere I go, whatever I do, she is there... and yet she's nowhere. I can't get used to her absence; she was my sweetheart and the closest friend I've had in my life. Why is she gone?

Of course, he knows the answer based on logic, health and science. But the question was directed towards an unknown Supreme Being he thought most people believed created the whole universe. Who they said loved us very much. Then why is she gone?

Kristina's faith in this being had evidently intensified during the final years of her life. And he was happy it worked for her. He sincerely hoped he was real, especially right now. But there were no audible answers.

What made it so hard was that it seemed as though he couldn't remember a time when she wasn't around. They had known each other most of their lives and attended the same schools throughout their childhood and adolescence. Seth was a year and a month older than Kristina, but she entered pre-school one year earlier. It made the two of them classmates all throughout grade school and high school.

In third grade, they were seatmates and best friends, and he gave her a heart-shaped card on Valentine's Day. She gave him back a card that misspelled the word "friend" into "freind", and, without knowing or understanding it, a seed of love was planted between the two of them at that moment. They remained the best of friends as they progressed from one level to the next. They always had each other as partners in any school project or in any event where they would be required to perform or dance. When he won the Highest Individual Pointer award in a writing contest during their senior year in high school, she was the second highest individual pointer. When he became the editor-in-chief of the high school paper, she was his associate. They would always be together and do things together. Kristina was cute and chubby, always one of the smallest girls in the class, and though they were only kids, Seth had always been in love with her.

During their final year in high school, Seth had begun to notice she was becoming an attractive young lady. She was no longer the small and naïve countryside girl he had known. In a word, she was beautiful. Her hair was brown, her skin was white and soft and, coming from his German father, her emerald eyes held infinite mystery. When he finally had the courage to tell her how he really felt, they started a more intimate relationship that would last for three fatefully wonderful years.

In college, taking up mass communications at the Far Eastern University in Manila, they were still classmates. One night, alone at the Santiago's beach house in Ternate, Cavite where they went for one summer vacation, she handed him the Valentine card he'd once given her and laughed aloud when she saw the look on his face. "Yes, I kept them," she whispered as she wrapped her arms around his waist. "It was the first time I ever felt that way for someone. I didn't realize it was love then, but now I know love led me to keep it," Kristina said. "Love is love. It doesn't matter how young you are." He smiled as she kissed his cheek.

Seth always wrote poems whenever he found himself thinking of her. He could write – but he was not much of a poet, and only Kristina brought that out of him. He always remembered the way she looked that night and what happened that morning.

Seth had always respected Kristina when it comes to showing physical affection even as they were in the prime of their teenage lives. But that night was too dreamy and her eyes were lovingly starry that he was not able to control himself.

Even now he remembered it clearly --- her brown hair, her emerald eyes, her soft lips, her face drawing near to him, which he couldn't get enough.

"I love you, Seth," she whispered as she laid her head on his shoulder. He smiled and didn't answer, just sipped the cup of coffee she'd made a few of minutes ago. She leaned against his firm body to feel it against the softness of her own. The lights were out and only the moonlight guided their every move.

"What are we doing?" Seth mumbled as he carefully put the Styrofoam cup on the bed's side table.

"Why? What's wrong?" she kissed his ear playfully then lightly bit his shoulder, like what she always does whenever she wants to catch his attention. She never had to, though.

"I thought this morning is different from other mornings."

"Yes. Why... why do you think so?" Seth tried his best to sound in control.

"Why are you always impervious," she teased. "It's not every day that we are allowed to stay here together alone."

"You know we can stay here anytime we want. It's just I don't want to force you into doing something you do not want to do."

"But we will never be in this moment again," she said as she kissed his lips. He kissed her back as he slowly moved on top of her and the night began singing wonderful songs of love.

"Here's your coffee, son," Mrs. Schmidt came in and handed him a cup, breaking his thoughts. It brought him back from his daydreaming. "Black with no sugar just as you always like it."

"Thank you, Tita, you've always been so thoughtful."

The old lady smiled and lightly tapped his shoulder before leaving him once again. "Take your time. I'll be at the porch."

Although he still remembers "that morning", he noticed that as time passes by, it was becoming harder to imagine its details and how she exactly looked at that time. Slowly the details of her face were beginning to fade away from his mind as the years go by. And even if he was aware that forgetting would help him take away the pain, the actual part of trying to forget triggers him to think about her all over again, which makes everything futile. The hardest part of love is forgetting, he wrote in one of his novels. And he sure was right. He had become a living testimony of it.

Seth used to frequently visit Kristina's mom during the first few months after her death. He'd go there every week, sometimes even three times a week, staying for hours and hours as they both consoled one another. When they noticed that instead of recovering from their loss they were just holding on to Kristina's memory and making themselves feel much worse, her mother decided that he should just come and visit once a month. Gradually, the visits became mere stopovers and soon he was able to refrain from stopping by for more than a month until he never returned again. It was her death's third anniversary next month, and it was the first time he had come back to this house in over a year.

Whenever Seth seemed to be coping well without Kristina, he would then dream about her for several consecutive nights. And although he was happy to see her and touch her as if she was still alive, it always left him feeling empty and broken when he woke up. Sometimes he would sit in front of his laptop and stare emptily on the blank screen, wishing to write words that would somehow ease the pain. But none would come out. Despite the pain, he still looked forward to having those string of dreams where he could be with her again.

Seth began writing novels as a hobby after graduating from high school. He began his love for the written word early in life as his elder sister loved to read books, particularly novels by Nicholas Sparks, and he would borrow them every time she finished one. Soon, he grew up loving them. He tried to imitate Sparks' technique in every draft he had written and soon he had developed his own style. It was Seth who introduced Nicholas Sparks' books to Kristina and they both shared a special bond around the famous writer's novels. There were times when they would finish a whole book in one night, alternately reading aloud each paragraph to one another.

They still did it during Kristina's fight with cancer, although they could barely finish a chapter anymore as she would always need time to rest and recover from the physical and emotional stress it brought.

After her death, he continued writing novels and tried to earn a living through it. A few months after Kristina died, he was able to meet an editor and a publisher who accepted his first book, the one he wrote with her. That was the beginning of his career as a romance novelist. It was the only thing he was good at, or maybe the only thing he really wanted to do.

However, the truth is Seth's main reason for writing was to be able to pour out his feelings and to do his best to try and move on through life without Kristina.

He earned decently after finishing three novels in more than two years of writing, which was enough for a young, single bachelor like himself. However, it was not enough to move out of their family's home in the hills of Olongapo where he still stays with his elder sister Jeanne and her daughter Elisha.

Every now and then the three of them would go on a retreat and visit their ancestral beachfront house in Ternate to relax and stay away from the city for a while. But even there, he would still stay up late to work and write as the ambiance and overall calmness of the place made him think more clearly about Kristina. She had always been the inspiration of everything he had written and he would like to put his feelings on paper as much as he can.

Despite being in the writing business for almost three years, Seth is still not that well-known except in the circles of young, hopeless romantic people who enjoy reading their heartbreaks away. His writings were more popular than his face because he would not allow his publishers to put his photograph in all the books he had written. Popularity or making money was never his goal in writing and also because he was never comfortable with the special attention given to him by other people. All he wanted was a simple and low-profile life, but the career he had chosen had naturally put him into the spotlight.

***

With their parents already gone, the only person he could confide in right now was Jeanne. Jeanne was seven years older than Seth and a single mom. She had Elisha when she was only twenty years old.

The father of her child was ten years older and was her boyfriend at that time. He left to work abroad in Saudi Arabia before Elisha was born and she never heard from him ever since. A few of her friends told her that he had met someone else and now has a family of his own. There were also rumors that he had died in the Middle East a couple of years back. She did not bother to know more about it anymore as they were not on good terms when he left.

There was no closure between the two. Sometimes Jeanne wondered what really happened to him, but she was no longer that much affected.

Because of that, the bond between her and Seth had only become stronger. Seth was the only remaining family in her life aside from Elisha, and the three had always been together.

They had been living together in a two-story house in Gordon Heights, Olongapo City. It was just three blocks away from Mrs. Schmidt's home, which was another reason why it would be virtually impossible for Seth to forget Kristina even if he tried.

They still decided to keep their ancestral beach house in Cavite, though, and is now being managed by a caretaker.

Jeanne was the only person Seth shared a real understanding with, a feeling reciprocated by his sister. In the past couple of years, she had always told him to start seeing others again. He would just smile and walk away every time she brought it up. She gave him phone numbers of her friends hoping to find someone who would catch his eye. He would call a few of those numbers but after the first meeting, he would never call them back again.

The simple fact was that he had no desire to find someone else. Kristina was the love of his life, his childhood sweetheart, and the only girl that took his breath away every time he looked at her and her ponytail.

He hadn't made love with anyone else in his life, except that one morning with Kristina, and worse, he felt no desire for that either. It was as if a part of him was already dead. Jeanne was constantly trying her best to urge him to move on. And even though she had always asked him if he was alright, he would also always lie to her and say that everything was fine. The truth is, for him, life will never be the same again.

***

The first light rains of early June began soaking the morning streets of East Tapinac, Olongapo City. The sun was nowhere in sight but a little light from it guided the early risers of this small city. Dark clouds hovered above and the symphony of lightning and thunder warned everybody the rainy season had just arrived. 

Yssa got off her jeepney ride half an hour before the opening of Tuesday's classes. She struggled to open her umbrella and was immediately soaked. Luckily, she was wearing the Girbaud jacket Glenn gave her last Christmas. The coat took up most of the water so her uniform was still tidy and dry inside. She paced the sidewalk leading to the alley towards Brightkids Montessori. 

As usual, people went about their own direction and business this morning, all of them looking straight ahead or towards the ground, and seemed to be thinking of the best way to solve each one's own problems and unhappiness. She was unmindful of everyone else as she stepped inside the campus. Her thoughts were preoccupied with the short quiz she would give her students in a little while.

"Good morning, teacher Yssa," Elisha greeted her with a bright smile and braided hair. She was walking across the elementary building corridor when she saw the little girl sitting in one of the school's sheds. The campus was still quiet. Only a few people were in the school at that time of the morning.

"Good morning, Elisha," she smiled back then held out her hand, "Are you alone?"

"Yes, teacher," she said, grabbing her hand, as they walked together on the way to their classroom. Yssa carried her school bag.

"Who brought you to school?"

"My mom. She told me to wait for you in the shed because she has to go and pick up something."

"Have you been there long?"

"No, teacher, just a few minutes. I'm so happy you arrived early," Elisha smiled.

She smiled back. "Is she feeling better already?" Yssa asked as she slid the key to open the classroom door.

"Yes, teacher, and she told me to invite you to my birthday party on Sunday."

Yssa was aware that Elisha was turning nine this weekend as the school's policy required the teachers to know all of their students' birthdays.

"Okay. Tell your mom I'm going to check my schedule and I'll just call her to confirm."

"Yes, teacher. But I would really like you to be there." Elisha's smile never wavered.

Yssa then gave Elisha her bag and the little girl walked toward her seat. She was unpacking some of her things when she remembered something.

"Actually, I'm kinda sad, teacher, because I didn't get to ride in Uncle Seth's car today. I love its smell. Also, it's hard to ride on jeepneys when it's raining."

Yssa could not help smiling upon hearing Seth's name. "How's your uncle? Is he doing well?" she nonchalantly asked as she placed her purse on top of her desk. She did not want the little girl to suspect that she had been thinking about her uncle for the past 18 hours or so.

"He's alright, teacher Yssa," Elisha said while reaching for a science notebook inside her school bag. Beside the notebook was a copy of one of Seth's novels that Elisha always brought wherever she was.

"How come I've never met him before yesterday?" Yssa asked. "I never knew your mom had a younger brother."

"Oh... he's been holed up in his room for the past couple of years, teacher. It was only recently that he tried to go out and meet other people."

Both of them giggled.

"My uncle's writing novels, teacher, do you know?" Elisha continued.

"Uh-huh," she nodded, not looking at her, pretending not to care.

"There is this one that I always carry. Would you like to read it?" Elisha said, handing her the book.

Elisha noticed Yssa's face turn red as she reached for the book. A smile never left both of their faces the whole time.

"For You, Blue? This is the title?"

"Yes, teacher."

"You would like me to read this, Elisha?"

"Yes, teacher Yssa. You can give it back to me when you're finished," Elisha answered with a wide grin. "Please don't lose it, teacher, it's quite important to me. It was the first printed copy of my uncle's book."

Yssa shook her head knowing that Elisha was teasing her. "Alright. Thank you, Elisha."

"You're welcome, teacher."

One at a time, the rest of the students started to arrive as Yssa placed the book on one side of her desk. She was looking at the book from time to time while sorting out the exam papers. She tried her best to compose herself and be patient about checking it out later after the class.

However, only a few minutes had passed and she could not wait any longer. She reached for the book and opened the hard-bound cover.

To Kristina.

For inspiring me to compose the grandest of words.

Kristina, she thought. Who is Kristina? She fought the urge to ask Elisha.

Elisha was looking at her when she glanced her way, seemingly analyzing her facial expressions. She did not realize that Elisha was observing her the whole time.

Elisha is so proud of his uncle, she thought, as she prepared the exam papers of her third-grade pupils.