Popoy: There you are again.
Basha: What am I being like again?!
Popoy: There! Telling me there is no problem when apparently there is!
Basha: There is no problem.
Popoy: Bash! How can I fix the problem if you won’t tell me what it is?
Basha: Popoy, you can’t solve every problem… And believe me you don’t want to know what my problem is.
Popoy: What is the problem?!
Basha: Do you really want to know?! It’s me! I’m the problem. Because I’m hurting even though know I shouldn’t be. I wish I could just pretend that I’m okay, that it’s not painful. After all, I’m the one who asked for it, I wanted this. I wish I can say I am happy for you, for both of you. I wish I can… But I can’t. And I feel like a horrible person because the truth is I’m still hoping you’d say that it’s me… just me… still me…
Popoy: I love Tricia.
Basha: I know… I know.
Popoy: She loved me at my worst. You had me at my best. And you threw it all away.
Basha: Poy, is that really what you think? I just made a choice.
Popoy: And you chose to break my heart.