Chapter 1: The Boarding House on E-rod
The air in Masbate City, though salty from the near sea, was thick with the scent of cheap instant coffee and damp laundry—the signature fragrance of the E-rod 56133718 House. It was here, in a narrow hallway lined with mismatched slippers, that Cavin first saw Nick.
Cavin, a focused 21-year-old taking up Engineering, was all sharp edges and worried frowns, his mind constantly sketching stress diagrams. Nick, 22 and studying Information Technology, was his opposite: laid-back, his movements fluid, always humming a tune. Nick's room was right across from Cavin's.
"Hey, pare," Nick greeted one evening, leaning against his doorframe, a coiled charging cable in hand. "My charger's busted. Got a spare USB-C I could borrow until tomorrow?"
Cavin hesitated for only a second before retrieving a charger. Their hands brushed during the exchange. It was an insignificant moment, yet Cavin felt a sudden, unexpected warmth bloom in his chest, like a tiny, secret spark.
They started studying together. Nick explained complex binary systems with a casual clarity that amazed Cavin, while Cavin patiently walked Nick through the terrifying logic of statics. The late-night study sessions bled into shared bowls of lugaw, quiet conversations on the rooftop watching the distant glow of the fishing boats, and eventually, lingering goodnights at their doors.
Chapter 2: The Deepening Current
Their love didn't start with a dramatic flourish, but with a slow, irresistible current.
The Elaborated Scene of Deepening Love:
One rainy Saturday, the power went out—a common Masbate occurrence. They were in Nick’s room, listening to the rain drum on the corrugated iron roof. Nick was trying to fix a bug in Cavin’s old laptop, using the dim light of a kerosene lamp.
The Moment: Nick sighed in frustration, wiping a smudge of grease from his brow. Cavin reached out instinctively, gently brushing the hair off Nick's forehead, his thumb lingering on Nick’s skin. The silence stretched, filled only by the rain.
The Confession: Nick turned, his eyes—usually so bright and mischievous—were suddenly earnest in the faint light. He didn’t say a word, just closed the small distance between them. Their first kiss was tentative, tasting of the humid air and nervous energy. It was a promise more than a passion.
The Rituals: Their bond grew through shared, secret rituals: Nick leaving Cavin's favorite pan de coco outside his door before his 7 AM class; Cavin building a small, custom computer program that tracked all of Nick's required reading. They were each other’s calm amidst the academic chaos. They weren't just lovers; they were anchors. Cavin saw his future laid out with Nick—a safe harbor after the storms of his demanding degree. Nick saw in Cavin the stability and unwavering focus he often lacked. They became an inseparable unit, their individual dreams merging into one shared horizon.
Chapter 3: The Relocation
Life moved on. Two years flew by in a blur of exams, late-night talks, and stolen moments. Nick, the older of the two, was the first to reach the finish line.
The graduation was a joyous, bittersweet affair. Soon after, an opportunity arose—a promising developer job in Laguna, far from the familiar shores of Masbate. It was a chance Nick couldn't refuse.
"It's just distance, Cavin. We'll make it work," Nick promised, holding Cavin tight at the Masbate port, the salty wind whipping around them. "You'll graduate next year, and you can join me. We'll get our own place."
Cavin nodded, his heart heavy, but his love overriding his fear. "Just... don't forget me, IT boy. Don't forget where our start was."
Chapter 4: The Discovery
The long-distance relationship was hard. Cavin was drowning in his thesis—bridges, load calculations, and finite element analysis—while Nick was navigating a high-stakes, fast-paced corporate world. The calls became shorter, the replies slower.
One evening, Cavin felt an unease he couldn't shake. He decided to send Nick a surprise package: a new set of mechanical keyboard keycaps Nick had always wanted. He needed the specific delivery address in Laguna, which Nick had always been vague about.
He logged into the shared cloud folder where they kept old photos. He found a recent folder labeled 'Laguna Life.' Clicking on it, Cavin wasn't met with photos of Nick's office.
Instead, there were pictures of Nick laughing on a beach that wasn't Masbate, his arm casually draped around a smiling stranger. There were photos of a living room—a different living room than the one Nick had described—with Nick and the stranger holding matching coffee mugs. The worst was a birthday cake with two names iced on it: Nick & RJ.
The world went silent for Cavin. The weight of every calculation, every sleepless night he spent believing in their future, crashed down on him. The anchor had been cut.
Chapter 5: The Refusal
Cavin called Nick immediately, his voice dangerously level.
"The cloud folder," Cavin whispered into the phone, his hand shaking so violently he had to grip the table. "Who is RJ?"
The silence from the other end was an admission.
Nick's voice, when it came, was laced with defensiveness and exhaustion. "Cavin, I... I was lonely. It just happened. It's complicated."
"Complicated?" Cavin's voice finally broke, shattering the composure he tried to hold. "I'm still looking at your empty bed here, you bastard! Was the last two years complicated? Is your promise complicated?"
They broke up right there, in a tempest of hurled accusations and weak apologies across hundreds of miles.
The next few weeks were a black hole for Cavin. The grief was physical, manifesting in skipped classes and uneaten food. Despite the crushing betrayal, the depth of his love was a stubborn, painful thing. He couldn't imagine a future without the man who had been his light.
Finally, Cavin sent a desperate, heart-wrenching message:
"Nick. I know what you did. I'm hurt in ways you can't imagine. But I still love you. Please, can we fix this? I'll come to Laguna. We can start over. Don't throw us away. Please, give us one more chance."
The reply came swiftly. Nick didn't even call.
"Cavin, please stop. I’m sorry. I can’t. It’s over. You deserve better than this pain. I need to focus on my life here. You need to focus on yours there. Don't contact me again."
It was a clean, merciless cut. Nick, the one who had once been his comfort, was now the executioner of their shared future. Cavin reread the cold, final message. He had offered his whole, broken heart for repair, and Nick had refused it, sealing the break with a dismissive, digital kiss-off.
Cavin put down his phone. The boarding house room felt emptier than ever. The engineering student who was used to fixing broken things finally had to accept that this was one relationship—one life—he couldn't fix. The lighthouse he sailed to had turned its light off, and he was alone, adrift in the deep, dark sea.
Epilogue: Building the Foundation
The following months were the hardest Cavin had ever faced, worse than any structural load calculation or impossible deadline. He didn’t just lose Nick; he lost the carefully constructed blueprint of his future.
He threw himself into his studies, channeling the raw, hot pain of betrayal into cold, hard logic. The heartbreak didn’t paralyze him; it galvanized him. He decided he wouldn't allow Nick's selfish choice to derail his dreams.
He submitted his thesis—a demanding design for a small, resilient bridge—and graduated with honors, the top of his class. His parents traveled from their province to Masbate for the ceremony, and seeing their proud tears, Cavin realized his anchor wasn't Nick; it was his own unyielding will and the people who truly believed in him.
After graduation, Cavin moved to Manila, securing a position at a prestigious infrastructure firm. He lived modestly, worked long hours, and saved diligently. He learned to differentiate between worth and need; he didn't need Nick, but he was worthy of a love that was true.
One afternoon, almost two years after the breakup, Cavin was on a work site overseeing the foundation pouring for a new commercial building. He stood on solid ground, the hum of the machinery a steady, constructive sound. He was 23 now, a licensed engineer, confident in his hard hat and safety vest.
He thought of Nick only briefly. He didn't feel hatred or even deep pain anymore, just a cool, distant pity for the person who had chosen an unstable, temporary path over the genuine, lasting love they had built.
Cavin knelt and touched the damp, newly poured cement—the foundation. It was strong, deep, and unmoving. He had spent his early twenties building a life and a heart that was dependent on someone else. Now, he understood the truth:
The most resilient structure he could ever build was himself. He was the foundation now, ready to support whatever beautiful, complex, and honest future he chose to erect upon it.
He smiled, a genuine smile that reached his eyes, and signaled to his foreman. He had a lot of work to do.
Chapter 6: The Unfixable Bug
While Cavin was rebuilding his foundation, Nick's life in Laguna became structurally unsound.
The excitement of the new job and the thrill of the new relationship with RJ quickly faded. RJ, unlike Cavin, was volatile, demanding, and saw Nick as a stepping stone. Nick found himself constantly striving to please, his patience worn thin by the high-pressure tech environment and the shallow nature of his rebound.
The breakup with Cavin haunted him like an unfixable software bug. Every quiet moment was filled with the memory of Cavin’s unwavering kindness, his sharp mind, and the simple, profound stability he had thrown away. He realized that in Masbate, he had possessed something truly rare and valuable, something he had mistaken for common and replaceable.
When RJ eventually left him for someone with a flashier car and a bigger apartment, Nick didn't feel heartbreak; he felt a weary sense of inevitability. He was left alone in the cold, corporate apartment, the silence mocking him.
The Final Realization:
Nick continued his work, successful on paper but hollow inside. He moved through the world efficiently, but without warmth. His attempts to date were shallow and brief. He would unconsciously compare every woman or man he met to the image of Cavin—the way he smelled of old books and salt air, the way he would gently trace the lines of a blueprint, the way he laughed when Nick cracked a bad programming joke. Everyone else was a faded copy.
He came to a bitter, self-imposed conclusion: He was a failure at love because he had betrayed the purest form of it he had ever known. He had broken Cavin, and in doing so, he had broken his own capacity to connect deeply again.
Nick was only 24 when he made the final decision about his heart. He focused solely on his career, his days a relentless cycle of coding and meetings. He built firewalls around his emotions, ensuring no one could get close enough to hurt him, or more importantly, close enough for him to hurt them.
He never loved again.
Nick achieved professional success, but it was a lonely victory. He remained a solitary figure, trapped in the memory of the light he extinguished—the perfect, simple love he threw away for a fleeting moment of selfish comfort. He became a man who could fix any computer system but couldn't repair the gaping void in his own heart, forever serving the penance of his own regret.
...end
