Months have passed since election day.
The roads that once roared with campaign jingles and cheers have fallen quiet.
There are new faces in offices, new names on streamers, new styles of leadership.
And us?
We moved on too.
Each of us returned to our own lives, our work, our families.
But even as time moved forward, you can't erase the memory of a campaign that was filled with so much heart.
In market corners, at the terminal, even in the comment sections of Facebook, his name still comes up.
And one of those names is Mayor Andy David Lacson.
He may no longer hold office, but in so many hearts, he's still the leader.
Not because we're clinging to the past, but because it's hard to forget someone who served quietly, helped without a camera, led with nothing but heart.
This isn't bitterness.
It's remembrance, not of losing, but of a time when so many chose to love, to fight, to believe.
I still see some people wearing the old campaign shirts, not because they have nothing else to wear, but because they're holding onto something time can't wash away: TRUST.
Sometimes a photo from the motorcade, a hug, a laugh pops up on the timeline, captioned simply:
"In my heart, he's still the Mayor."
And now, i've learned this much:
The measure of success isn't a position.
It's impact.
And if you ask about impact, his story still reaches so many.
So if you ask me where he is now,
He's quiet.
Careful.
Not making noise.
But he hasn't stopped.
There are still nights he shows up at wakes, offering condolences without fanfare.
We still hear stories, not for show, but because that's simply who he is.
Months have passed.
So much has changed.
But if there's one thing that remains, it's this belief:
That once, there was a leader who didn't just hold office, but loved.
And for us, this isn't a story of defeat.
It's a story of service that will never be forgotten.
So if someone asks me again when he'll come back, my answer is:
"Maybe not in the way you expect. But in the hearts of those who believed in him, he never really left."