I was okay. I’ve stopped thinking about him. I was moving on and I haven’t looked back. Even when I knew he was in town, I resolved not to see him. I didn’t even make contact, and I was proud of myself.

But life plays tricks and I was today’s joke. I went to Ayala to meet my best friend, A. And who should I run into but N, in the flesh? There he was, sitting in one of the restos, looking like the pseudo-god that he is. He was having a beer with one of his white male friends and obviously scoping out women.

I shouldn’t have, but I went up to him to say hello. He was all over me in a second – hugging me, introducing me to his friend, saying he’ll call me later so we can do something. He knows I’m leaving town tomorrow, and he said was only staying overnight.

He texted me a few hours later, saying I was looking really sexy. After that, nothing. I didn’t know what I was expecting, but I was expecting something. I didn’t want to have anything to do with him. But I also wanted to. Its a very complicated emotion that sent my heart racing.

I still haven’t heard from him and I’m livid. My friends are of the opinion that I’m just mad because I wanted to get laid. I wish it was as simple as that because if that is the case, I’m sure I won’t have a problem with that in Boracay, if I just want to.

But I know why I’m angry. I’m angry because I was okay, and now I am not. I’m angry because I thought he can’t hurt me anymore, but he still can. I’m angry because he just can’t leave me alone when I most needed him to. I’m angry because I needed this time to move away from him and all the inappropriate men in my life, but the sight of him left me broken once again.

Most of all, I’m angry at myself – for my weakness, my pain, and my anger.