not a book

           An ex’s friend texted me tonight, “Mahilig ka pala sa junior.”

           I was baffled.

          Junior who, or junior what?

          Because my ex is a junior, you know ****, jr., he must talking about some guy. Or a guy’s some.

          Then I got all defensive and my just saloned-arched brow rose.

         “Hey, m single n I can c huever I want. We’re friends so I rili don’t nid ur judgement. But, muah. Take care sweetie, Missed seeing u around.”

          Hey, we all judge. That’s all we ever do it’s becoming everyone’s favorite pastime. We judge people by how they dress (slut), how they talk (jologs), and even how they think (bobo). It would be pure hypocrisy if I claim I’ve never judged but I’m starting to kick that habit because if there’s one person people are likely to judge, it would be me.

          I heard what people have been talking about me since the breakup and it’s fun because they don’t know shit. My friends also bore the brunt of these hate talk and I feel bad because people’s brains are so fucked up from all that sun exposure they can no longer think logically or open-mindedly.

         I’m telling my friends now that whatever they do, I still got their backs. Even if they’ve killed someone, stolen something, been sued for estaffa, or even snagged a boyfriend, I would never turn my back on them. I will never turn my back on you. I don’t know but I’m the last person in this world to ever hold a grudge against anyone. It’s not healthy. We’re friends. I’ve known you for so long I can already blackmail you to your mom. I’ve seen you sleep with your cheeks wet from your drool. I held your hair while you puked all over my car. I’ve covered your ass when I was telling your mom you were with me when you were just banging your bf on a school night. I was with you while you were banging your bf. Haha. I know that you can also say the same thing for me. Saying that you’re my friend isn’t just a verbal claim, its more than a regular blood compact or the spitting kind where you go pweh pweh to your palm and you shake hands. It is very heavy – the word friend and I don’t take that for granted, people.

          So I won’t judge. If you go, “Gang, I’m hiding from the world because people are after me. I’ve stolen their money,”, I’ll tell you the directions to my house and let you stay there.

          To the text message, I got defensive because I was hurt. I wasn’t expecting you to do the same but I was just expecting you to be a friend.

          Oh, where are my Benson and Hedges…

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