It Was KathNiel Who Broke Up. Ba’t Tayo Ang Umiiyak?

(SPOT.ph) You read that they got together 11 years ago, and suddenly your mind is filled with scenes from 2012: The Avengers movie just came out. Xi Jinping is elected President of China. Kate Middleton announced she was pregnant with the child who would become Prince George of Wales. People were recording "Call Me Maybe" lip syncs five years before TikTok became a thing. Fresh grads back then now have ten years of work experience. Some teenagers at the time are now parents. Juan Ponce Enrile was only 88.

And of course—there’s the most important part of the story—us.

We were younger too, and more energetic. Maybe we were only choosing which college to attend. Maybe we were considering a career in culinary or I.T. Maybe we were fresh from a breakup and looking to heal. Though we’re all different people, one thing is universal: We all had far more possibilities in 2012 than we do now.

And of course—there’s them. They, too, were young and full of hope. Daniel Padilla was 16 and Kathryn Bernardo was 15 when they first worked together. Months later, Daniel tells Kathryn “I love you,” and the rest is history.

Also read: 
Looks Like Even Lazada Is Mourning the KathNiel Breakup
KathNiel Is Officially Over and the Internet Is Having a Collective Breakdown

Why does the KathNiel breakup hurt us?

Why does it hurt to watch people we don’t know break up? I’ve personally never met either half of KathNiel. I don’t even know people who know them. Sure, I’ve seen them in movies, but not all the time. The hyper-pragmatic side of the brain wonders why we should be so invested in the personal lives of these young, beautiful people. And the emotional side of the brain is incapable of words. It sighs longingly, retreats into its dark room in the skull, and reminisces.

One theory is that as much as we extol the virtues of adventure, change, and constant evolution—we do like when some things stay the same. Perhaps it was nice to grow older, gain expendable income, travel, get married, and have kids—but all that involves leaving behind a kind of life. The life you have comes at the cost of something else. You might have taken a job abroad and left your college boyfriend. You might have worked overtime to get promoted, but missed your best friend’s bachelor’s party. Some things can never be reclaimed—but at least you can always simulate your childhood through certain things: your favorite stall in the school cafeteria hasn’t closed down, Pale Pilsen tastes as it did decades ago, and Kathryn and Daniel still love each other.

For those with bleaker dispositions—so much has happened since 2012. A drug war, a wave of fascism across all continents, full-scale war, and a global pandemic—but what’s remained is the teenage sweetheart falling for the moderately-bad bad-boy, and staying in love for over a decade. There was an innocence that remained untainted by the realities of adulthood. In the pressure cooker of the world, there were two people who lived in a fantasy—and therefore that fantasy was still attainable.

Even with this reasoning, it’s hard to pinpoint why this is the breakup that shook the internet and sent so many of us into a tailspin of hopelessness. It’s not as if we didn’t watch the crumbling of other cherished loveteams—Jadine, Kimerald, Sharon and Gabby, and countless others. It’s not as if we haven’t seen our actual friends break up. Maybe we even delighted in never having to interact with their horrible, cheating, abusive exes ever again.

So, what is it? Was it simply longevity? Was it their actual, real, loving relationship, which writer Yol Jamendang points out was never doubted, even by their most dedicated haters? Was it their everywhere-ness? That in an age where each person is thrown video after video based on a soulless, personal algorithm, KathNiel was so damn huge that we all had no choice but to watch them fall in love and grow up together? Dahil ba wala tayong naging choice kundi kiligin, which is why ngayon wala tayong choice kundi ma-heartbroken?

Honestly? Probably all of that. And even then, it wouldn’t be enough to explain how KathNiel dug a cavern into our chests and lived there for 11 years. It is, perhaps, quite a magical thing.

In this sorry, confused country of ours, this single relationship was a source of stability and hope for many of us—the idea that, at the end of the day, these two actors would take their masks off and love each other in a way that was only theirs to know; that their love was public, but also private—and that those two things were different but inseparable. Filipino fans might be incredibly generous that way—Life is tough, and so is love, but at least these two love each other truly. Without KathNiel, this fantasy dies. And on Bonifacio Day 2023, it died a loud, remarkable death.

What’s uncanny is how these two stars understood what their relationship meant to their fans—and to the wider population. Their breakup—inevitably public—was well-written and touching. One says that everything was real, and that their relationship began with respect and will end with respect. And the other says that their love will be the light in all his dark moments. Commenters have talked about how their relationship offered Filipinos a fantasy of an ideal love. They succeeded. And true to form, now they have offered yet another fantasy—of an ideal breakup. To move on, but to honor the time you spent together. To always have love for someone, but to know how that’s different from loving them. And to carry on, even without knowing if love will be possible again.

By Gian Lao. 

Gian Lao was a speechwriter for former President Benigno Aquino Jr. He’s written essays and profiles for various publications and has published his own collection of poetry: “All the Winters of My Body,” and the collaborative poetry zine “What We Can See of the Sky.”