More than 5 years, But Still Head over Heels

I remember my Photography professor shared an amusing and a bit mushy anecdote about how he realized, "This is it, I'm not only in love, but I deeply, wholly love this girl..she's the one." For my professor, it was all thanks to onions.

He was chopping onions to cook dinner for his girlfriend, admitting he was trying to impress this girl even though he had never cooked all his life. While chopping religiously, his eyes began to water. It didn't take long for his vision to blur as one tear followed after another. My professor began to sniff. While rubbing his eyes, his girlfriend gently removed his hand and dabbed a handkerchief to wipe his tears. The girl whispered, giggling, "Tahan na." It was then, at that moment, he knew this girl was the one he'd love for the rest of his life.

I never forgot that story. More than amused, I was touched. When you realize you are truly in love, it's always not in a grandiose, obvious way. No candle-lit dinners and parading under the stars. No dancing on a rooftop and a room full of roses. Or an orchestra playing your favorite song while you dine in fancy restaurant. I've always believed in those kinds of moments -- small ones that are unexpected, understated and yet, magical. Trust me, I'm not a hopeless romantic, but a realistic, keep-my-feet-on-the-ground kind of girl.

For me, it happened one night in 2009 during the U.P. Fair. Every year, my boyfriend and I made it a point to attend the fair, even just for one day. That week, I was suffering a recurring back ache due to so much stress at work. But to hell with my back ache, nothing could stop me from going! There's the sunken garden grass to lie on anyway. But two bands into the fair, my back ached so much I could even feel the throb when I'm lying down or leaning on Sam's back. Sam wanted to go to the hospital, but I insisted just a bed rest will do.

That night, I slept over at his house that was near UP. My back ache was far from leaving me alone. It was too painful I had to stifle my cries -- "Hindi ko to kaya." Sam lied down beside me and massaged my back, using cantor oil to relieve the pain. His mouth on my ear, he shushed me, whispering over and over, "I'm just here, baby." He massaged and soothed me for hours until finally, the pain was gone and I fell asleep.

I was blinded and numbed by so much pain that night. But there was that short moment, a fraction of a minute, that I saw myself with him for the rest of my life.

Earlier today, Sam and I went to the mall to watch a movie, shop, and eat. I'm not as conscious as before of how I acted when I'm with him. But mostly, I remember feeling happy. And the details I often forget. Today, Sam said something amusing:

Sam: "Bakit ganito tayo no?"

Alina: "Paanong ganito? Pano ba tayo?"

Sam: "Wala, ang sweet pa rin natin, para tayong bagong magsyota."

I don't know for others who are in a five-year relationship, but Sam actually has a point. A good, happy point. Again, at that moment, I felt the hair at the nape of my neck tingle, and my chest filled with....I don't know, something like air, with a hundred butterfly wings flapping.

It's amazing how we've been together for more than five years, but we're still head over heels.

To the love of my life Sam (you might never read this as you never read my blog (I know how much you dislike blogs), but I just want to put on record...that I love you so much. Never doubt that.

Watch Behind the Bylines on Star World

Know what goes on behind the scenes in the number one fashion magazine in the Philippines! A reality show, BTBL features a day in a life of a Preview magazine editor to give you a taste of what working on the monthly gloss is really like.

Behind the Bylines Opening Credits/OBB (this will be revised soon to include Daryl Chang, Liz Uy and Raymond Gutierrez)

Behind the Bylines is the first ever local show based in the Philippines, produced by Fox International. Catch Behind the Bylines only on Star World, Tuesdays, at 8: 50 PM, every 2nd and 4th week of the month.

Don't miss the quirky episodes airing this October featuring Manila's finest stylista Daryl Chang!

Behind the Bylines Credits:

Head of Programming:

JOON LEE

Channel Head (Star World):

Eddy Tan

Territory Director:

JUDE TURCUATO

Marketing Manager for Entertainment:

CHARO ESPEDIDO

Producers:

RAIN BALARES

ALINA CO

Director of Photography:

ADJANI ARUMPAC

Designer:

ANDRE MEDINA

Post- Production Editor:

ALAN NONES

Cameraman:

RYAN VERGEL DE DIOS

PREVIEW:

Editor-in Chief:

PAULINE SUACO-JUAN

Creative Director:

VINCE UY

Editorial Assistant, Special Projects:

ELOISE ALBA

Deputy Art Director, Special Projects:

EUGENE DAVID

THE VOICE LIFE

When I started imitating commercials (especially taglines) when I was seven or maybe eight years old, my mom eagerly predicted: my daughter's going to be a news reporter or broadcaster some day.

But then, several years of acting in plays and joining declamations later, I found that speaking in public made me nervous! Never mind the plays, I was never a nervous performer (I had the knack of blocking the audience out when I performed. I also had a band in college), but addressing an audience was altogether a different thing,

So yeah, several years later, my mom found that her oracle was not the best one.

Instead of taking up Broadcasting, I got lost into and fell in love with Film and Audio-Visual Production, which is more of behind-the-scenes.

After graduation and years of working, I never knew my hobby as a child of faking accents and repeating commercial taglines would resurface. Until I found I can do voice-overs.

I guess I owe it to making plugs and observing professional VO talents during my first job. I liked imitating them for fun. Eventually, when our talent could not make it, while I did have to beat a deadline, I had no choice but to do a dummy. Kind of like a voice guide.

Until a client (a sponsor) asked our team to do a TVC. But they can't afford to pay for a VO talent. The client was a well-known motel. My co-Producer asked our superior if my voice will do. He said, well, let's see.

Fortunately, my voice-over passed. Credit it to a "bedroom voice". Hehe!

I eventually forgot about that. But my interest came back when an office mate told me of a VOICE ACTING WORKSHOP, called VoiceWorx in Creativoices Productions.

I enrolled. Though the tuition caused me almost all of my savings, I can say that it was all worth it.

I have since earned back the tuition...and more.

Today, I have gained the confidence that I need to be a good voice over for commercials. I enjoy doing voice overs so much! I feel challenged by every word, pause, every intonation, breath and every syllable.

When I voice, I'm just playing. I like expressing myself through my voice and hearing it on TV or the radio.

Without my hobby as a child, encouragement from former officemates and Creativoices, I wouldn't have done it.

But it can never be my full-time job. Voice over always has to be a part-time job, that I learned in VoiceWorx.

And yes, I guess it helps a lot that whenever I voice, I get to be an eight-year old all over again.

Maria Alina Co is currently a voice-over talent of Knowledge Channel and Star World Philippines. She also does freelance voice work for other companies.

The Invisible Sisters of Manila

Word polaroids by Maria Alina Co

Blue, pink, yellow, and green splashed my eyes. The monobloc table-turned merchandising display setup at the Lopez Memorial Museum was abloom with crocheted bags and wallets of various colors and designs. Body bags were at the left side, some with striped patterns, embellished with a flower accessory or two. Two women were rearranging stacks of pouches of all shapes and sizes. A black, shiny wrist bag caught my eye. Despite the great diversity of color and style, the bags had two things in common. One, they all carried the brand “Invisible Sisters,” and two, they were all made from recovered and recycled trash.

Yes, trash, or garbage if you prefer.

Visitors and customers like me would always do a double-take after being told the exquisite bags were made of discarded palengke plastic bags. A meticulous middle-aged female customer fiddled with the crocheted bags. “You mean this is not string or yarn?” she asked incredulously.

“Opo, Ma’am, plastic po ‘yan,” Ate Rica, the leader of the group, promptly answered.

The Invisible Sisters

The plastic bags are collected and made into bags by a group of urban poor women – all mothers and grandmothers – called the Invisible Sisters.

“May nakapagsabi sa’kin, yung kumare ko, na may ganitong grupo. Marunong naman ako mag-crochet dati pa eh. Sumali ako doon sa workshop ni Ma’am Rica,” Josie Tolentino, 51 years old, said as she recalled how she became an Invisible Sister.

The Invisible Sisters is the brainchild of American environmental artist Ann Wizer.

"I began in my house in Manila in late August 2008. I wanted to create a second livelihood project that also reuses waste, while creating jobs in the process. Learning from lessons of my Jakarta XSProject, I wanted something simple and easy to replicate.”

Wizer’s recycling project in Jakarta was hugely successful. Trash-pickers from slums shredded foil packs from junk food packages. The strips of trash were used to plump up and embellish functional furniture such as sala sets and executive chairs. The project yielded income for the poor women and at the same time, reused and recycled tons of trash polluting the slums of Jakarta, Indonesia. The installation entitled High Chair currently on exhibit at the Lopez Memorial Museum is one such product of the trash-pickers, Ann Wizer, and the furniture-makers that Wizer hired.

In the Philippines, Wizer decided crocheting would be a more viable idea.

“I asked the Filipinos I knew if any one knew how to crochet. All I got were blank stares, but it didn't matter: we started in my garage with a pile of colored wires from computers, used dry cleaner bags, and the supply of old plastic bags."

With the help of her cook Rica Galgao, who eventually became the project coordinator, Wizer was able to jumpstart the project.

“Nagtanong-tanong kami ni Ma’am Ann sa mga foundation ng mga kababaihan dito sa Maynila. Nagsimula kami sa isa, hanggang sa dumami na nang dumami,” Rica recalled their start-up days.

Galgao was the first to learn how to crochet plastic bags. She invited and trained women, while Wizer helped in the designs and marketed the bags locally and abroad.

Today, the Invisible Sisters has over 200 mothers and grandmothers crocheting for income. Between them, they have over 500 children and an even more staggering number of grandchildren, most of whom have no regular income.

Empowering women

Fifty-one-year-old Josie Tolentino or Aling Josie was a Management graduate but got married at a young age. She never worked all her life, being a full-time housewife to her husband and four children, the youngest being only nine years old. She relied on her husband’s income until she became an Invisible Sister.

“Malaking tulong na din po sa amin. Lalo na kapag istambay lang kami sa bahay. Pagkatapos kong magluto at maglinis, wala na akong ginagawa. Kaya malaking bagay talaga.”

Aling Josie is one of the fastest and most skilled bag-makers in her group. On the average... ( to read the rest of the article, kindly click on this link)

On Christmas and Crisis: You can never be too cheap when it's about the spirit, after all!

With the global crisis and skyrocketing prices of gas, vegetables, and practically everything one has to pay for, what's a girl and guy to do?

So today, Sam and I have officially said goodbye to road trips in Tagaytay, weekly splurges on foodie-fact finding missions in posh restaurants and expensive movie dates.

Hello cheap, but nonetheless fun and thrill-filled dates!

For our first stop: Greenhills Shopping Center.

Every night, from 7: 00 to 10: 40 pm, masa people troop to Greenhills to watch a Christmas show staged in a life-sized manger, while enjoying cheap, but great food and strolling the night market.

The food binger in me relished in the abundance of Philippines' best cuisine. Street food, what else? From everything inihaw (corn, squid, isaw, bangus, betamax) to

Oriental (siopao, noodles, congee and siomai) to Pinoy's favorite Christmas staples like suman, bibingka and puto-bumbong. Chairs and tables are available for those who want to eat, while watching the show.

And while you're at it, why not squeeze in a bit of shopping? The place is filled with tiangges, where cheap finds and thrills are sure to be discovered. Plus, you can ask for bargain prices with a little bit of prodding

and charm. In other words, make "TAWAD!!!!!"

The looped Christmas show might not be music to the ears once you've heard it for the nth time, but the throng of people coming in, not to mention the sights and smells, might just provide variety and ample entertainment.

For me, just imbibing the Christmas spirit is worth it. I remember feeling so much awe when I watched the show the first time in COD, Cubao, when I was six years old. They transferred the show to Greenhills around three years ago, I think. But every year, I make it a point to watch, just to remember how it feels when I was kid. When Christmas was all the magic and happiness I've known it to be.

The night ended with our stomaches bloated from too much food, and yet our wallets and budgets intact. Best of all, blue, green, red and yellow lights blinked on our faces as we kissed good night. Without words, we knew it was the best pre-Christmas date we ever had.

[BUDGET BREAKDOWN]

Commute to Greenhills: P22 (two persons)

Entrance Fee: None

Ferino's Bibingka: P95

Gulaman: P20 (two persons)

Rice with 3 pieces isaw: P69

Inihaw na Mais: P20

Fishballs: P30 (two orders)

Siomai with noodles: P25

TOTAL: P281

No Reservations

Words by Maria Alina Co


What were three true-blooded Manilenas without any camping skills thinking when they decided to go to an island called Anawangin?

By word of mouth, the small, uninhabited island is fast becoming a camping Mecca for mountaineers. But for most city dwellers, they just could not resist Anawangin’s mystery. With no hotels, no electricity, no air-conditioning, no bars, no internet, novelty for them is the greatest adventure. Not knowing what to expect, three girls headed out to Zambales one Friday morning, with luggage fit for an airport’s. Will handsome Leonardo di Caprio appear and hand over a secret map to “The Beach”? Will they befriend a volleyball with eyes and mouth just like in “Castaway”? I assure you it was nothing like that. I should know, because I was one of them.





No Reservations


After four hours of dreamless sleep aboard an Iba Zambales bus, we were finally roused by the conductor’s yelling “San Antonio!” From there, we were to get a tricycle to Pundaquit, where we could rent a boat to Anawangin. Being the Boracay-going gals that we were, we felt excited, curious and nervous all at the same time. And then it hit us—all these were just improvisations. Just some instructions we got online from a blogger we don’t even know. Waves of doubt splashed our minds—come to think of it, we didn’t even have reservations!

But off we went to meet the waves and explore the sea. We were island hopping! For anyone who has taken a vacation in Pundaquit, Zambales, the locals offer island hopping in a small boat that can accommodate at least four people for only P800. The route covers three islands— Camara, Capones and Anawangin and is inclusive of a ride back to Pundaquit.

Camara, the nearest island from Pundaquit shores, is a very small isle with a rocky shore and white sand. There’s nothing much to do there but just lay down on a mattress and bask in the sun. It’s also perfect for picnic with friends and family. The next stop is Capones, where you can trek to the Spanish lighthouse. The walk is worth the sweat as the lighthouse is breathtaking. Try talking to the construction guys there and they’d lead you to the best and safest place to take pictures of the lighthouse. Plus they’d give you a healthy dose of travel tips and trivia.




The last stop, Anawangin was the biggest finale. When we arrived there at noon, the sun was high, the sand powdery white and the beach crystal clear blue. Around us were not coconut trees as was the usual, but pine trees! Lots and lots of them! The beauty of it all was too overwhelming that we didn’t notice right away that we were the only tourists there, aside from the caretakers who lived at the nearby nipa hut. After setting up our tent and stove, we ran around, explored and swam to our heart’s content! It was the most peaceful I’ve felt over the last few years. Dipping my head in the water, I told myself—this is the place to be, this island is ours.

That is, until the next day.


Anawangin Tips and Must- Haves


Mornings are pure paradisiacal, but evenings at Anawangin can be quite harsh. Especially when you’re amateur campers like us.





When the sun went down, the island was literally black, with just a speck of stars above. Our large heavy–duty flashlight might have come in handy, except that my friend found out it was on the whole time. It blinked for a second and then the charge was out. So we had to resort to scented candles my other friend brought.

Needless to say, bring lots of flashlights and batteries. Also, the mountain mosquitoes consider us a delicacy, so at nighttime, it’s a must to use a mosquito repellant.

The best about the island is the sense of peace and isolation. But Saturday morning, we woke up to the sound of around fifty people setting up their tents, some very close to ours. So I would recommend a weekday trip, instead of weekends to have the island all for your selves. You can choose between two sides of the island. They only charge entrance fees per day of your stay: on the left is P100 per head and on your right is P50 per head. All I know is that the on the P100 side, there are fewer campers and the restroom’s better.

To survive an over night stay or more in Anawangin, make sure you load up on all the essentials: food and water. For food, it’s best to bring a mini stove, a pot for rice and a pan for the dishes. The key word is canned goods: tuna, corned beef, spam, sardines, all kinds for more variety. For snacks, bring bread and spreads, biscuits and chips. In San Antonio, there are convenience stores where you can buy gallons of water and all the other needs you forgot to buy from the city.

Once you’re in the island, forget your cell phones. There’s not even half of a single signal there. So before you say goodbye to your boatman, tell him the exact date and time you plan to go home.

For you sanitary needs, water is pumped from a nearby poso. You can bring buckets of water to take a bath in a restroom made of bamboo sticks. There’s also a toilet and you can use the rooms to change clothes, if not your tent.





I’m a Survivor!


An adventure in Anawangin is not for the faint-hearted. If you plan to go there, be ready to get down and dirty.

Manilenas that we are, we’re proud to say we survived three days and two nights in a mysterious island, far away from civilization. And besides the island’s beauty, it’s the uncertainty, the journey to the unknown that made all the difference. Reservations are no good in Anawangin. Just pure guts and adventurism.

Somewhat Reddish, Rough on the Edges

Somewhat Reddish, Rough on the Edges
(word polaroids by Maria Alina Co)
(aimless writing collection)




Recently, for some unknown reason, a vision of a red table popped like a bubble inside my head.

It was somewhat like looking at a familiar face beaming at you in the middle of a crowd. You squint and stare, but couldn’t quite place the face. Or if you have one of those memory jars, where all sorts of memory things are cramped inside, swimming, waiting to be fished out.

I didn’t fish the table out. It managed to pop out of the lid and reveal itself in its full form.

Days before my eighth birthday, my eldest brother Kuya Ariel was cooking something up. I didn’t know for sure, but I knew it had something to do with one of his construction workers, a carpenter, who sneaked in and out of the back of our house.

Kuya was just a starting contractor then. He borrowed a lot of money from my Auntie Bebe, and then some from my Mother’s amigas to make his own construction company. I remember a lot of wood and metal scraps, small mounds of cement lying around our garage. I also remember hushed angry voices and painful tears echoing inside the four walls of our bungalow. It was the eighth time my daddy quit his job. And days before my birthday, when he swore he’ll never work a day again.

The day of my birthday, I had a small party. My guests were just three—Dorothy, my bus mate, Ida and Kathrina, my classroom buddies.

After I blew the birthday cake candles, Kuya took my hand and led me to my room (which I shared with mommy and ate). At the leftmost corner, leaning on a wall, was a large wooden study table, and scandalously red—thick red, with a rough texture. It’s the kind we doodled in drawing assignments in grade school. Rectangular, with four squat red legs. A red chair stood empty in front of the table, as if beckoning me to sit. Kuya’s chinky eyes were unusually large and misty. Beaming proudly, he kissed me on my forehead and said, “Ok ba Mylene?”

I sat on my new red chair and traced the edges of the table. Rough on the edges, it had wooden splinters that somehow escaped turning red. I nudged on the red drawer, which made an awful scraping sound.

“Diyan puwede ka maglagay ng books, notebooks, crayons, papel-- kasya lahat diyan,” Kuya explained.

I glanced at my three guests, who looked blankly at Kuya’s surprise. They weren’t impressed. I planted a quick kiss to Kuya’s cheek and uttered my thank you.

Over the next days, the red table stood empty, save for a picture frame my mom put there. I didn’t dare place my things inside the drawer. I was afraid the splinters would come alive and poke its spikes on my things.

Kuya checked on me almost every day. But most of the time, I was lying on our bed while doing my assignments. He’d say, “Kaya ko nga binigay sa’yo yan para diyaan ka mag-aaral.” I’d obey grudgingly.

Until one day, Kuya Ariel slammed our door open, his face red with anger. In his hand was my report card, line of sevens floating in red ink.

“Mylene, ano ‘to??? Paliwanag mo kung bakit ganito grades mo!” I blushed, but said coolly, “Bakit ka nagagalit? Si Mommy at Daddy nga hindi galit. Kuya lang naman kita ha.”

Wordlessly, Kuya grabbed all the books and notebooks on my bed and threw them on the ugliest piece of furniture in the room.

I was dazed and confused. Biting my lip, I began to weep.

When Kuya finally stormed out, I fixed the mess on the red table, muttering under my breath, “I hate you, you ugly thing!” I kicked the table with all the strength I had left, but I ended up hurting my foot instead. Besides being sore, splinters poked out of my toes. So the red table found a way to retaliate after all. I guess it hated me too.

At the end of the school year, the red table vanished. I think it must have been the middle of our fourth quarter periodical exams when one day, I went home to find our room suddenly spacious. The red table was gone.

I told you a while ago about my memory jar (which is large, glassy and transparent, like an old-fashioned mayonnaise container without the label). I put memories I’d rather forget inside this jar. I know now why I chose to forget the red table.

One day, mommy told me the truth. “Mylene, you should know, your dad no longer pays for your tuition, Si Kuya mo na nagbabayad, installments, since your daddy lost his job. So try to understand na lang why he’ s very concerned with your grades. He only wants the best for you.”

That moment, my heart must have stopped, the world must have turned dark. Guilt seeped in, wave after wave after wave. I would have placed myself inside my jar if I could, and wallowed in shame, together with my old forgotten things forever.

But there was only one thing I had to do. Repent. And so I did with all the love and kindness I could give. Every day, I thank God for blessing me such a wonderful, loving brother.

My Kuya paid for my education from grade school all the way to college. More than my school necessities, he provided my family a few luxurious things. He bought us a brand new PC, a car, a huge LCD TV. Yearly, he shopped new clothes for me. In high school, when Birkenstock was the “in” thing, he bought me an imitation in Itti (Birks was way too expensive). He bought me my very own Swatch, Sanrio things, Nike rubber shoes, my ball dress, Guess jeans, Giordano shirts, name it.

But never a rough-edged, red study table again.

I can only imagine now what happened to the red table. Perhaps, the construction worker chopped it in pieces and used it for a construction project.

Or made fire out of the table’s four legs.

Maybe Kuya gave it to a charity organization, where a kid used it to know her ABCs and 123s.

These days, its redness pales in my mind. But I can still feel it today—the rough edges of its rectangular glory. I trace it again and again, my fingers never bleeding, loving its roughness.

Maria Alina Co, 24, graduated magna cum laude and best thesis from the University of the Philippines, Diliman, with a Film and Audio-Visual Communication degree. She is now a TV Network Executive Producer and a part-time magazine writer and voice-over talent. This year, she is taking her Master’s degree in Media Studies in Ateneo.

Short Walks From Masscom to Palma Hall.

When I entered UP, one of the things I looked forward to were the boys. I thought, thank God, after meeting stupid boys in High school, I'll finally meet substantial ones in college and who knows, I might fall in love.

(Long Pause)

(the fan whirs, the floorboards creak, the sun sets)

Okay, so no one came. So a year before graduation, I have already resigned and accepted maybe I'll meet HIM at the work place.

But I guess God is such a good dramatist and story-teller. 'Cause for some unexplainable reason, YOU came into my life.

And because God mastered that in literature, the protagonist has to work his/her butt off, to get his/her happy ending, he decided....well, Alina, I won't make this easy for you.

So at first, as in all love stories, we meet. You were a Philosophy Major, a 'tambay' in AS/Palma Hall-- a heart throb, as cool as ice. I was a Film Major in Mass Com-- student council leader, running for honors, a real stuck-up.

I was domineering and had a strong personality.
You were passive, almost shy.

You were a bassist and a member of a band.
I was a singer and a member of a band/duo called AlinaNaiba.

You thought Paola Peralejo (my classmate then in Mandarin 100) was over-rated and bitchy.
I blushed when you said I'm prettier than her.

We were JUST ORGMATES. But it was a real blessing we were under the same committee. Cause otherwise, what could be our excuse for talking on the phone late at night? We were discussing layouts and copies of publicity materials, but deep inside, we wanted to know how many siblings we have, our birth dates, our interests, our crushes...

I remember now, vividly, our shorts walks from Masscom to Palma Hall. I remember deliberately trying to walker slower just to spend more time with you. I don't know if you noticed I often tied my shoe laces.

I waved a shy goodbye every time I was about to go to the third floor for my Chinese class. You said "ingat!" as you went back to your tambayan on the 2nd floor.

January 2005-- God decided it was time for the REAL DEAL. Sitting on a new sofa in Masscom, we confessed what we felt for each other. Then again, the Lord said liking each other wasn't enough for love. In the end, you told me we met too late 'cause your heart already belonged to someone else.

My heart bled.

That night, we walked together to the IKOT jeep terminal near Masscom. You bid a silent goodbye as I got inside the jeepney. You turned and walked away, as the jeep drove ahead. Please look, I muttered, please...just glance so I know I still have a chance...WE still have a chance.

But you walked straight ahead. I blinked back tears. It was the longest ikot jeep in my life.

Depression came. That included crying to five different people in a day. Staring off into space during thesis shoots. Writing poems, writing a song about you (which became a famous song by the way- Eyeliner sung by Armi Millare)

And just when I was already moving on, God made the unexpected happen. He let us meet again and made us feel something. That maybe, we can work it out. He might be the one. She might be the one. God gave our love story another chance.

I held my own, passed the test and got my happy ending.

Now, we're four years and counting, baby.

Up to now, I feel mesmerized by you. As if we just confessed to our crushes, as though we had our first kiss.

But it hasn't been a smooth-sailing ride. We've been through a lot. But the important thing is....we made it. There are more challenges to come. I'm sure we're all the more stronger for them.

From being strangers, to romantic partners, we've become the best of friends.

Alina and Sam. Sam and Alina. I can't imagine life without you.

Thank you so much for your unconditional love.

Happy 27th birthday!