When and why do we say goodbye to love?

To most of us who have felt the pain that brought the tears and the feeling of insignificance after a relationship ended, we gave all the love that we had, but it was not sufficient — never good enough.

A familiar scent lingers. A song on the airwaves makes the eyes misty. Places that remind us of him or her trigger the familiarity that bred contempt, displeasure and rage. The emotional investment can never be recouped. And not being able to answer the question from the one you chose and who made you happy, “Why do you love me?” dumbfounds, perplexes and makes the receiver of the query defensive.

All of these and more get their moment on stage in Teatro Kapamilya and PETA Plus’ The Art of Breaking Up, based on the Palanca-winning play Kung Paano Tayo Maghihiwalay, written by the late playwright George de Jesus III, directed by Dudz Terana and presented in a non-linear manner.

This DAILY TRIBUNE columnist watched its opening-night performance on Friday. The cast featured Carlos Siguion-Reyna and Bibeth Orteza as Ben and Anita. Their daughter and son, Lou and Dino, were played by Nikki Valdez and Jake Cuenca. Their friends and ex-lovers, along with the highs and kilig that romance brings and the reality that bites when a relationship crashes, complete the story.

World without love

Of the many pairs in the play, the ones that brought back memories with a vengeance and reopened old wounds were the gay couple Ferdz and Erwin, portrayed by Dingdong Bahan and Jude Hinlimdum. The couple did not heed the advice of The Supremes that, “You can’t hurry love.” The fast and frenzied start of the relationship between a femme gay man and a straight-acting, discreet one was ideal and almost fanciful.

That is why, when the relationship reached its demise, with needs and wants, desires and dreams in conflict, the verbal skirmishes, words and feelings not only escalated but exploded. The emotional truth that Bahan and Hinlimdum brought to their characters was spot on. Watching them clash and fight made me feel, “I have been there. I have done that.” It hit me hard. Indeed, there are some pains that time can never erase.

Bahan is ready for leading-man roles. The manner in which he gave emotional truth to his character was not only laudable but also impressive. It is great to note that Hinlimdum matched him every second and in every way whenever they were on stage.

Scene stealers were Yesh Burce as the irritatingly kikay and saccharine emotional manipulator Carla, and Meann Espinosa as the “I am everywoman,” who raised the bar on what a taong bayan (the people) can do to add more tickle, laughter and spice to the play.

Hats off as well to Valdez, Luna and Cuenca. There is really a difference when someone actually knows what they are doing and is completely engaged with the whys and wherefores of their characters.

When Cuenca, as Dino, pleads and asks for another chance, the ache in his heart screams. When Luna demands an explanation as to why everything is falling apart in her relationship, you understand and root for Kat. When Valdez declares enough is enough, you know it is not a whimsical decision; it is coming from Lou’s gut and nitty-gritty emotions.

Adding more pathos and passion to the production were the well-curated songs interpreted by Kolette Madero and Jarren Garcia, which set the mood for the beginning, direction and aftermath of all the relationships.

It is always painful and messy — a breakup. No one can claim who bears the bigger share of the guilt or the reasons why the relationship went kaput. Romantic relationships bring both ecstasy and agony. It is a matter of sink or swim, and of commitment between strangers who became friends and lovers, not only to make it happen but to make it work.

In the end, The Art of Breaking Up made me realize that there is wisdom in the famous line: “It’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.”

The Art of Breaking Up is now staging at the PETA Theater Center until 6 December.