Cup of Joe&rsquo;s &lsquo;Multo&rsquo; has taken the Philippines by storm, and listeners have tied different interpretations to the song. Some view it as an anthem for unfinished business. Some, for death. It can also be about how the dreams you once chased ended up being the ones chasing you. There are multiple explanations, all made by various people who experienced the same thing&ndash;loss.&nbsp;
Ang malalim na balon ng kahulugan ay nabuksan para sa Multo.. At para sa&rsquo;kin, nando&rsquo;n ka sa pinakailalim.
(I guess love really does make its way into the deepest, darkest crannies of a person.)&nbsp;
These days, they don&rsquo;t ask about you anymore. I guess that&rsquo;s what moving on looks like to everyone else: less talk, fewer breakdowns, and more smiles in public. Inaasar pa nga ako na hindi na ako &ldquo;missing-in-action&rdquo; sa mga gala. So, I continue to play my part. I laugh, post happy pictures, and when the situation allows it, I try to flirt back.&nbsp;
But when that song starts to play, I feel the familiar tightness in my throat, that sudden need to blink too fast, too much. I freeze.&nbsp;
I remember.
Because no matter how good I&rsquo;ve gotten at convincing everyone else, I can&rsquo;t lie to myself. The lyrics feel like a secret note addressed only to me. I hear &ldquo;Dahil sa bawat tingin, mukha mo'y nakikita,&rdquo; and suddenly, I&rsquo;m back at your apartment, watching you cook and smile at me while I prepare the table. Time warps around me. Everything goes on rewind mode. And it&rsquo;s not that I intentionally choose to go back. It&rsquo;s just... I never really left.
People think ghosts are these scary monsters from movies you&rsquo;ve avoided like a coward. But this is different. There are no flickering lights or gusts of cold winds whenever I remember you. You just show up in scent, in sound, in silence. You haunt my mornings when I wake up late. You&rsquo;re in the empty side of my bed, in the song that plays while I&rsquo;m pretending to clean, in the seat I reserve while knowing that you will never even claim it again.
You&rsquo;re the ghost I welcomed in because letting go felt worse than being haunted.
Among all the interpretations of Cup of Joe&rsquo;s &lsquo;Multo,&rsquo; for me, it is the permission I never gave myself to admit&ndash;I&rsquo;m not over you. And I don&rsquo;t know if I ever will be.
But maybe, just maybe, I don&rsquo;t have to fake it forever. Maybe the song&rsquo;s reminding me that there&rsquo;s no shame in grieving someone who&rsquo;s still alive, just no longer yours.
After all, some ghosts linger not to torment us but to remind us of how deeply we loved.
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