A Farewell Letter to Nikki

Dear Nikki,

I haven’t given you a name, not until today that I realized how much you mean to me after you departed. I can’t imagine having to write this letter. It still tears me apart, knowing our journey has come to an end. First of all, I apologize for being careless last Sunday. I was too tired from my trip that I set you aside and removed you in my arms. While I was viewing the thumbnail of photos, I vividly recalled how beautiful the memories you captured at Matingloy beach and that I said to myself that I will never replace you despite you being heavy and bulky. You’ve done an amazing job that upgrading you never got into me.

You’ve been my trusted friend since I decided to take blogging seriously. You were my first investment in my passion. We’ve been to so many places together, more than a partner or a boyfriend could. And even if technology keeps on teasing me to replace you, I couldn’t. Our tandem has been great. Our collaboration at work is incomparable. You translated mere photos into memories, lively colors and hues and experiences. You introduced me to a different dimension of beauty as I travel around, capturing the essence of the smallest details that breathe life and magnificence. Remember your first out of town trip with me in Cebu? We strolled in the beach, saw cultural heritages, climbed levels of waterfalls and ate good food? How about that post birthday trip at Iloilo? You showed me the pristine beaches of Gigantes. You transformed the view at the lighthouse into something mystique. You showed me around the old churches of Iloilo. We traveled to Guimaras to yet explore another realm of hidden paradise. The blue skies, turquoise waters, scenic shorelines, the trees and the people – you truly magnified the beauty in all of them. Remember Sigayan Bay? The sunset and the sea peacefully reunited in your eyes and the place was too picturesque that it garnered a high traffic for my blog. We also climbed Mt. Ulap in early January to bask in the glory of sunrise, grandeur mountains, morning dew and cold weather. You were there to witness my exhaustion and my amazement. Our trip at Samar and Leyte was also beyond unforgettable. We saw the raw, ethereal beauty of nature. We saw the candidness in the people’s simple lifestyles and the genuineness in their smiles. And even if it was my second time in El Nido, you still portrayed the images in a different perspective that my senses couldn’t decipher at once. You survived all the dirty elements of nature: the sand, the sea, the rain, the flood, the sun. Through all the momentous occasions with my family and friends: birthdays, anniversaries, celebrations – you were there to witness them all. Thanks for being a reliable comrade in my events and blogging gigs. We both captured the intricacies and randomness of food, or whatever work is assigned to us. You accompanied me everywhere, letting me see the beauty of the bigger world out there.

When I stood at the store, realizing I was no longer carrying you – I was beyond shocked. I was stoned. I was unsure to chase the cab or to call my friends if they got the cab details, or to set aside my heavy backpack to run after you. Afterwards, I find myself crying. I broke into tears. Realizing that I worked hard to have you, even if there are no rewards in my passion right now. I sacrificed a lot just to be with you. My friends also regret your loss. You showed them the same loyalty you gave me, every time I let them borrow you in their trips.

I also fought hard just to find you. However, after three days of searching, it dawned on me that you were not meant to stay. I have to let you go. Wherever you are right now, I hope you are doing fine. Remember all the memories we spent together. I hope someone will take care of you like I did. Whatever the purpose of your leaving, I hope that it will be for the betterment of someone else’s life. You are destined to make others happy. So help them reach for the dreams, like the way you did to me. I will sorely miss you. It will take some time before I can replace you. I’ve grown too familiar and comfortable exploring your features, no matter how complicated you are to understand. Sorry again, that you’d have to leave in the blink of an eye.