Many people judge what I do, and I don't blame them. After all, if I had the same privileges that they take for granted, I would judge myself, too.

But I do have feelings, and I do have a heart. It's a heart that sleeps, waiting to be awakened by true love's kiss. While most of my colleagues, girls who I treat as my sisters, wait for that one, elusive customer who will take them away from this life so they won't have to worry about money forevermore, I waited for the man who would look beyond what I did and love me unconditionally. It was because of this idealism that I remained a virgin - something that my 'sisters' didn't approve of because, according to them, I'll earn better by sleeping with men instead of just dancing on stage. I never listened. Instead, I remained hopeful.

And then I met him. He came in every night for a week. He never ogled the girls unlike the others. In fact, he was more interested in the football on screen and his beer than on the hedonistic shows on stage each night. I watched him night after night after night until I finally worked up the courage to talk to him. I asked him if he wanted to meet me the next day for a drink because it was my day off. To my surprise, he agreed.

The next few days passed in a blur. We went to the beach together. We shopped, ate, danced, and talked. I found myself falling for him. One night, I told him I loved him. He smiled at me, and took me back to his place where I finally gave up my virginity for the man I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.

For days, we hardly left the room. He wanted to pay for my company, but I refused it. We made love, laughed, and just enjoyed each other's company. I was so happy. I felt it in my heart that he was going to rescue me from this life, that he was going to take care of me. I believed it so wholeheartedly that I didn't think it was strange when he told me he had to go away on business. I trusted that he'll come back for me, that we'll always be together.

On the morning that he left, he woke me up and kissed me goodbye. I expected him to call me later that day, but he didn't, so I just assumed he was busy. He didn't call me the day after that. Or the day after that. I tried to call him several times, but he never picked up. Still, I believed that there must be a reasonable explanation, that I'll hear from him soon enough.

And I was right - I did hear from him weeks later. He sent me a text message asking me not to call him again. When I asked him why when I thought that he loved me, he told me he never said that. And what hurts most is he told me he could never love someone like me - a whore, a bar girl. He told me it was all in my head, that what we had was merely a business transaction. It didn't mean that because I didn't let him buy my time, he was already mine. The worst part is, he was right. He never said he loved me. He never said he wanted us to be together. My whole world shattered right then and there.

So I went back to work, vowing to myself that I will be like my sisters. I will never make the mistake of giving my heart to a customer again. Most of all, I will never make the mistake of thinking I will find love as a bar girl.

The next few months, I functioned like a zombie. I finally started sleeping with customers, and my sisters were right; I did earn a lot more by doing so. Slowly, my heart started to heal and I started to forget him.

Until one night, seven months later, when he came back into the bar that I was working in - the same bar where we met. My heart skipped a beat. It was almost as if the last few months have never happened, like I was seeing him again for the first time. I knew then that I have never really gotten over him.

I found myself smiling, hoping, even. But I found my hopes shattered when I realized that he came in laughing, arm in arm with a woman. I knew then that she wasn't like us. She was well-dressed, beautiful, and sophisticated. And I saw that he only had eyes for her.

My legs felt like they were weighed with lead. I couldn't dance anymore; I couldn't function. I finally got off the stage and sat down on one of the vacant chairs. The tears started to fall and I couldn't stop them. I cried like my heart was breaking, and I realized that it was.

As they were getting ready to leave, his eyes scanned the room and they met mine for a brief second. There wasn't a single flicker of recognition in them. He has forgotten me. To him, I might have never existed.

I dried my eyes, went back on stage, and continued dancing. Life goes on, and I must make some money for the night.