I used to think that once the campaign ended, once the final post was shared, the last motorcade wrapped up, everything would end there.
But it turns out, it doesn't.
Because even when the votes are counted, the results finalized, and new people take office, memories remain.
There are still stories we return to.
Smiles that come back whenever we remember those days when we all believed together.
And there are words that many keep saying over and over:
"You're still our Mayor."
In every barangay we walked through, every sleepless night, every simple "Thank you, Mayor,"
I learned that success isn't measured by position.
True success is measured by how many hearts loved you not for what you had, but for who you were.
And Mayor Andy David Lacson… was loved.
Fully.
Genuinely.
He didn't come back for power.
He came back to fulfill promises left unfinished.
To continue the story of service.
And now, months have passed. Many things have changed, but hope hasn't disappeared.
Quiet, but alive.
Not a shout, but a steady heartbeat.
Because the story isn't over.
This isn't the end.
The truth is, this is the beginning of a quieter but stronger conviction.
A kind of love that can't be erased by the outcome of an election.
A lesson we'll carry wherever we go:
That whether in politics or not, you can lead with compassion.
That true service is never forgotten.
And the hearts you loved don't just let go.
And if anyone ever asks,
"Was it all worth it?"
The answer is YES.
Because we saw who was real.
We felt what it was like to be loved by a leader who wasn't just a politician, but a father, a friend, a servant.
This isn't goodbye.
It's a thank you.
Thank you to everyone who stood with us.
To everyone who believed.
To everyone who fought.
And wherever time may take us,
we're still here.
Ready to continue.
Because once, you showed us how to love truly.
And for us, that will never be lost.