The speaker imagines being a place in Baguio, the mountain city in the Philippines, and the place they choose is a souvenir shop. That's a telling pick. Nobody lives in a souvenir shop. You stop by, take something small with you, and leave. The speaker seems to accept that the other person is only passing through, and that goodbye is already part of the picture.
What the speaker really wants comes in the last line: "I want you to miss me even when I am gone." There's a quiet ache in it. They don't ask to be loved forever or to be the reason someone stays. They ask to be remembered, the way a keepsake brings back a trip long after it's over. The tone is soft, humble, and a little sad. The short, plain lines make the wish feel honest, like something said gently and without any demand.