I heard you're gone.
I heard you left around 4 p.m. last Thursday, August 8.
You left forever, leaving all the pains and aches behind.
After being hospitalized.
You're only 29.
But I guess it simply time, to meet your mom again.
I know we planned to see each other again: to get-together, to party, to celebrate, to exchange stories and share laughters.
You know what I would do about those plans now?
Get back to those thoughts, to our chats and remember the fun we had.
I am thankful for your ready and quick answers everytime I leave you private messages.
I am grateful that you're a dog-lover just like me.
I am happy that you found the perfect partner.
(Remember, I hoped to get the chance to meet him?)
I am glad you get to enjoy your life. Short but sweet, right?
Your two younger sisters would definitely miss you.
Your cousins and aunts and uncles, your nieces and nephews, your Inang, they would not forget you.
Your partner, he would absolutely be incomplete.
Your friends, they would not find another one like you.
Your dogs, they would be lost, looking for you.
Your loving memories would help us move on.
It is not easy to say goodbye.
But we have to.
I would say that life is fair in that you do not have to suffer anymore.
Let me tell you this though.
I only learned about your passing this morning.
As I went online for the first time,
After having been offline since August 2.
I am pretty sure you knew where we went.
Because I have been seeing this beautiful black butterfly
Hovering around us whenever we are, starting that Thursday,
The day you went to meet the Lord.
I have been greeting that beautiful black butterfly in the morning, the afternoon, the evening...
At first when I noticed that beautiful black butterfly, I was alarmed.
As you know, it's a superstition in the Philippines, that black butterflies mean not so good news.
But then, since its supposed to be our vacation, I decided to embrace the beauty of the butterfly.
And started welcoming its presence.
The beautiful black butterfly made me more relaxed.
It gently reminded me to just seize the day.
Although if I had known, it was you, Erwin: I would have begged that butterfly to flutter into my hands.
I would have talked to that butterfly, invited that butterfly to join us for a dip in the sea,
asked that butterfly to sit with us during our every meal, requested that butterfly to sit beside me while I read my book...
Whatever dear Erwin, I am sure you are now in full color.
You are loved.
You will be missed.
You, Amor, you!