Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts

Thursday, February 28, 2013

The In-Between

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Previously:
Gossip Girl: Mi Querida Señorita

"So, are you seeing anyone?" I asked her.

"Yes," Fran replied. "And he's married."



"Hey hun, kamusta?" I asked.

"I'm okay. Eto, drinking on a Tuesday night," Fran said. She laughed, and it was bitter. The type that cuts you up like tiny blades, hard and dry. Fran had just broken up with her boyfriend of two years, a man she had deeply loved. It was an agreeable decision but things are starting to get messy.

"Wow … someone's starting the weekend early," I quipped. "You okay?" I sighed.

"Not really." She paused. "Inis ako hun. He told me he was going to be out of town last weekend but he got back pala Saturday. Nakita ko lang kasi na tag siya sa isang photo."

"So I texted him 'I didn't know you were back'." And he replied, "Oh, I didn’t know you wanted to be informed."

"I said, 'I didn’t know you didn't want me informed.' And that was it."

"Naiinis talaga ako hun," Fran repeated. "He's cutting me off. Fuck. That's what I do. I cut people off. But this time, I'm on the receiving end. I thought he was better than this."

"I'm sorry honey," I said, trying to console her. "I guess it sucks when people disappoint us. Nakakainis no?"

"Are you sad that it ended, or how it ended?" I asked.

"I'm sad it ended. But I'm not sad how it ended. I'm angry at how it ended."

I laughed. "I can just imagine how you feel. It must have been like a complete shock. Like Pearl Harbor. You were caught in a stealth attack!"

"Bravo! Round one goes to him," I said. "I'm excited what happens in the next round. What if he becomes sweety sweety uli?"

"Ayy naku," Fran said. "I won't be caught off-guard again. This time, my defenses are up."

"Hahahaha. We'll see honey whether those walls will hold."



That night, I got to thinking. Is it our fault that we let our walls down and let people in? Was all the joy we experienced worth all the pain once a relationship ends? Is there really an un-messy break up?

Earlier this month, Carlo and I were giggling talking about the love month and all the excitement it brings. But February is ending. This morning, I woke up and felt it. It's the season between the seasons. It's no longer cold but neither is it blistering hot. I call it the in-betweens. It makes me feel incredibly nostalgic and a wee bit sad, like something's slipping away and you try to hold on to it. But you can't.

Seasons come, and then they go. That's just the way it is. Just … the way it is.
-

Friday, February 08, 2013

Alessandra

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"Ahia, I'm here at the hospital now," Shobe said. "My water bag broke. But baka tom pa tong si baby lalabas. (But I think the baby will come out tomorrow.) Please keep me in your thoughts and prayers."

Ahhhh... and so it is time. My little sister is giving birth to her first baby. I guess she's not so little anymore.

"Thank you for letting me know. So you'll stay there for the night? You feel ready?" I said. I was excited, nervous, and a little sad I wasn't with her. I knew this was one of those life moments you'll never forget. I suddenly felt acutely the thousands of miles that stood between us.

"Yes stay na. Connected to the monitor and I'm on fluids already. Ito pala feeling ng patient (So this is how a patient feels)," she said and laughed. It was nervous laughter. She was quiet for a while.

"My back hurts though," Shobe said. "Hopefully I can get some sleep before showtime begins tomorrow. I'm a little anxious kasi i don't know what the pain will be like but I'm ready for it. Kakayanin."

"I understand," I said. I was getting teary-eyed. I was worried for her, I wanted to hug her. She's my baby, still, and that will never change, no matter how many babies she gets. 

"But ikaw pa Shobe! You're one of the bravest person I know," I said, as I tried to cheer her up. "And pain is good, once in a while. It reminds us we are alive."



The next day, my dad texted. 

baby Alessandra
born 1/28/2013 5:31 p.m.
white complexion 7.02 pounds 19.5" 
she's a happy baby girl.





And just like that, life begins anew. Honeylet, daughter, wife, sister, is now also a mother. You know what Dad, I'm happy too.

Friday, November 09, 2012

Wheelchair

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Previously:
Better Days

"Three of my Tita Deng's siblings died in the past few years. One of them was a brother she dearly loved. He was her housemate, her companion. Her friend. She never really recovered, I think. She is turning 88 years old this year, and our talks are now full of her laments in life. How difficult it is to be old ... and weak. Her increasing inability to walk. How lonely she feels."



While the rest of the nation were visiting the dead, I decided to see the living.  It has been a few months since the last time I took Tita Deng out. I was always too busy, too tired, too preoccupied with work, friends and boys. Next time na lang (I'd do it next time), I'd tell myself when I'd wake up the next day with a hangover after a night of partying.

And I found myself  saying that every week. Next time na lang. There was always an excuse I used to assuage my guilt but I knew I should see her soon. So last weekend, I called her up and told her I would be picking her up for lunch the next day. A date with her always takes time. I'd have to go to Antipolo to fetch her, then we would go to wherever we were going to eat, then I'd have to bring her back, before I head home. All in all, it takes about eight hours.




I slept early the previous night so I'd wake up early. I had already researched some restaurants we could try and I was looking forward to spending time with her. Tita Deng and I always had fun. We would laugh and talk about many things, she always had a sense of humor that hasn't been dulled by old age.

I was shocked when I saw her. She came out in a wheelchair, looking very frail and thin. Apparently, her health has deteriorated dramatically. She can no longer walk because her knees hurt due to arthritis and she is now forced to use a wheelchair, something she had always dreaded.

The process of getting her inside the car was strenuous. I had to lift her and put her in the passenger seat. Then, I had to lift her wheelchair and put it in the trunk. By the time it was done, I was sweating heavily.

Once I got in, I hugged her. "Tita Deng, kamusta ka?" I said.

She started to speak but I couldn't understand her words. Later on, I learned she fell down and hurt herself badly in September, and that she may have had a mild stroke. Sometimes, her speech becomes slurred and she finds it difficult to be understood.

I looked at her and suddenly, she really seemed ... old. Matanda na talaga si Tita. I suppose I always had a feeling she would live forever, that she would always be around. I was getting sentimental and sad, but I hid it from her.

I knew what she would like is for us to have a normal day together and act like everything's the same. So I greeted her cheerfully and told her how beautiful she looked in her blue dress.

We went to Eastwood and decided to have lunch at a Thai restaurant since Tita Deng loves spicy food.We had pad thai, tom yum goong, steamed rice, and squid with garlic. I noticed her hands were trembling and she would spill some food on her lap, so I arranged her napkin so her dress wouldn't get soiled. I regaled her with stories; my sister's pregnancy, my travels, plans for Christmas, updates about work.

"So Tita, anong balita sa iyo? (So Tita, what's new with you?)"

"Alam mo ba, natumba ako isang beses. Actually ilang beses. Mahina na talaga ang tuhod ko. Masakit dahil sa arthritis. (You know what, I fell down once. Actually, several times. My knees are really weak now.  It hurts because of arthritis.)"

She winced and I could imagine how it must pain her. "Nabagsakan pa nga ako ng cabinet eh (A cabinet even fell down on me)," she said.

"Oh my God!!! Nakakaloka!!! (What the fuck!!!!)" The cabinet she was referring to was a big one that's around five feet ten inches tall. She said people found her with blood on her face due to a gash, but otherwise, she was unhurt.

"Nakakaloka! (The fuck!) Akalain mo, natumba ka na at nabagsakan ka ng ng cabinet pero ... buhay ka pa rin! (Imagine, you fell down and got trapped by a cabinet but look ... you're still alive!!" I said.

"Loco ka talaga! (You're such a smart ass!)" she said and we both laughed. I hugged her and smelled her shampoo on her hair.

"Aba .. naligo ka!" I said.

"Siempre, may date tayo eh," she replied, her eyes twinkling.



Afterwards, we transferred to another restaurant and ordered ube cake and a green mango-watermelon shake. Later on, I took her around the mall in her wheelchair because I know she likes seeing the shops and people watching. She doesn't go out anymore, and the only times she gets to see the outside world is when I take her out. I would tease her and push her wheelchair hard so we would be running across the hallway, and we'd be laughing afterwards.

"Para naman akong bata nito," she told me with a smile.

I remember something I read about how life comes full circle as we age. From a baby to an old man or woman. Once we rode strollers, later we'd be straddling wheelchairs. The wheel of fortune turns and sometimes we find ourselves right back where we started.






Time is running out. I don't know how much time is left for Tita Deng, and there's really nothing to be done about it. We all have to take our exit, at some point. She has had a long life, a good life and perhaps that is enough.



-

Friday, August 10, 2012

The Most Beautiful Thing to a Woman

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Written on the 8th of August, in the Year of the Lord 2012 while monsoon rains battered Manila and flooded the city and nearby provinces



Dear Shobe,

So ... thirty one, married, pregnant and alcohol-free. Who would have thought all that could happen in a year? Sometimes when I think of you I barely remember the girl you used to be. Things have changed dramatically, haven't they.

Clad in Marc Jacobs and Michael Kors in your beautiful home near L.A.'s coast, you are the perfect example of the girl living the American dream. God, Shobe ... you made it. Your fairytale came true; the prince, the castle, the jewels (I'm kidding!).

Sometimes, I envy you and the life you have. I suppose what I envy the most is how structured it is, how ... stable. Like everything's in place, things are exactly where they're supposed to be. No more roller coaster rides, no more lonely cold nights. Ang saya diba? Alam mo yan.

When I hear your stories: refurbishing your home, entertaining the in-laws, and the body-racking nine-month pregnancy journey, it's a whole new world. I can't help but feel how different our lives have become. And how, it will become even more different.



June, 2012

"By the way, I have two great news for you," you texted me. "I got a job at Kaiser, my dream hospital. Plus I am seven weeks pregnant! I am sooooo happy :):

"Hello Uncle!!!"







Time  stood still. I felt a mixture of emotions. I was shocked. Oh ... my ... God. Me??? Uncle???? I swear Shobe, I'll order your children to call me Kuya!

But as I stared at the photo of the small fetus growing in your womb, I couldn't help but be thrilled, excited, and ... strangely enough, I was scared too. I didn't understand why then, and I suppose I unconsciously pushed the thought at the back of my head. I wasn't uncomfortable about how I was feeling about it. But as your birthday approached, I told myself: it's time to face it.

And after some honest reflecting, I realized ... that I was afraid of losing you. I was scared of losing the girl who has always been there for me. I recognize that having a baby will mean a shift in priorities and I guess the selfish part of me didn't want to lose the spotlight.

You know how everyone says we have such an amazing relationship. And we do, no? We've always taken care of each other, and I got used to it. You've loved me unconditionally, you were always there for me: when I needed someone to listen, someone to cry to, laugh with, drink with, party with, and of course, dance with! You and I have a special bond, alam mo yan. You and I, it's always been that way ever since we were small.

Badj and I had dinner last weekend, and she was telling me how your priorities change once you have a child. No matter how much you want to see your friends, or go out: you just don't have the energy or the time for it anymore. Things do get better after awhile, she says, once you have adjusted.

I must admit I was saddened by what Badj said. But then I remembered what a wise friend once told me: life has its different seasons. And I realize what I must do: it's my turn to give more. To understand when you will be too busy, or too tired from work and from taking care of the baby to catch up and talk. Or if we can no longer travel as much as before. Or dance like we used to.

Because something is going to happen to you. Something magical.






In the film Venus, which tells the story of an old man (Maurice) falling in love with a young girl (Jessie), there was a scene where Maurice brought Jessie to the National Gallery and showed her Diego Velázquez's "The Toilet of Venus".






They were both gazing at the painting and Maurice tells Jessie a woman's body is the most beautiful thing to most men. What is the most beautiful thing to a woman? Jessie then asks him with a quizzical look on her face. Maurice gives her an answer which I think will ring truthfully in your heart: her first child.

You, my little sister, will soon gaze upon the most beautiful thing you have ever seen. Your first child. I can only imagine how that would feel like.

And so, if you remember what I told you right after your pregnancy news, it's true. I am overjoyed for you. It looks like you really are the girl who has everything. =) I promise to be there for you in whatever way you need me to be.

So happy birthday my love. I am excited to see you again, and to meet the newest member of our growing family. I miss you terribly.

Love,
Ahia
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Wednesday, May 02, 2012

Gossip Girl: Reversals of Fortune

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It's said that we're all strapped to Fortune's wheel. Nowhere is this truer than in the ever-changing landscape of love. As one couple enjoys an upswing ...







"K!!! Oh my God! I missed you!!!" E said, giving me a tight hug when we saw each other. He had been busy settling in his new apartment, a new job and it has been awhile since we had gone out.

"So ... kamusta ka? (How are you?") I asked. I had missed my friend terribly and I had been wondering at his silence the past weeks. 

"Okay naman. Eto ... Naiinis ako. It's been two months na since nagstart ako mag work (since I started working.) Hindi ko pa rin masakto. (I still can't get my life back on track.) I had an accident, a burn recently kaya nag absent ako sa work (I was forced to be absent from work)." 

"Oh my God. Are you okay?" 

"Yeah. Pero minsan, parang nakakawalang gana. (But sometimes, it just feels shitty.) Parang I'm trying to start over pero ang daming malas pa rin," he said. 

"I'm sorry to hear that," I said squeezing his hand. "Arcee helping you?" 

"He is. As in. He's been amazing," E replied, nodding. "I don't know how I could do this without him. Grabe K, ang suwerte ko sa kanya. (I feel so lucky I have him.)" 

E and his lover Arcee have been together for a couple of years now. I've seen their love deepen and blossom and they've weathered the storms that hungrily come to seek havoc on relationships. But, they persevered. I suddenly envied them. 

"You are," I said, giving him a hug. "Masuwerte kayong dalawa sa bawat isa. (You both are lucky to have each other.)" 

"Hay ... tama ng drama. (Let's cut the drama.) Enough about me," E said laughing while disentangling himself. "So...  how are you and this guy of yours?" 

"Ahhh ... well ... uhmm ... " I said. 












... another is plunged downwards ...













"Well ... we've been fighting a lot," I confessed. "And I think it may be over before it really began."



I was having a quiet lunch alone, engrossed reading the book Fasting, Feasting by Anita Desai when Jeremy dropped the bomb.

"I need time to think about stuff in light of what has happened," he texted. "I'll keep in touch okay? You have a great week."

"Oh ... okay." I was shocked. "Sobrang na stress ako sa sinabi mo.(I'm so stressed by what you said.) I mean, we are going to fix things right? Or are you considering ending it?" I asked.

"Apparently, stress is all I give to you," he replied. "Anyways, you should take the time to think about stuff yourself," he replied with a smile at the end of the message. Like this. :)

"I hope you answer my question Jeremy. Because whatever our problems are, I don't think of ending things as an option. Now, if you are considering it, at least warn me."

"I cannot answer that question right now," he replied. "But you seem to be okay naman so that is a good sign."



I'm not okay. I wanted to say that it was unfair, that he was unfair. I wanted to shout and scream at him ... but I did not. I'm supposed to be a mature man who can handle his emotions well; isn't that what being an adult means? He needs his space, what can I do but respect his wish? My throat constricted and I suddenly teared up. Get a grip on yourself, I said.

""I'm not okay," I said to Jeremy. "I was hoping we can fix our issues. But ... I respect your wish. I'll wait, I'll be here." 



I have had four lovers and each of them left me at some point in time. Lahat sila iniwanan ako. I know ... I know ... it sounds dramatic and tragic, the kind of stuff characters in Philippine telenovelas would say, but it's true. I've always been the kind of guy who fights for love. Sometimes I wonder how careless people can be. They say "I love you" but what does that really mean? Tell me. What does that mean? 

Because of my past, my greatest fear in a relationship is being abandoned, that my supposed to be life partner will give up, just like all the others before. Hearing this from Jeremy brought back all the fears I have, that once again, he may be giving up. Perhaps as Graham Greene once wrote, our love had turned into a love affair ... with a beginning and an end. Or maybe it was an affair all along and I was just too blind to see it.



Intense. That is how best to describe Jeremy and I. 

"Sobrang hirap E," I said. "We're so intense and therefore when we're happy; we're intensely happy. But when we fight, it also becomes quite intense."


It has been almost two months now since we met and I suppose the glitter and fascination are wearing off. Jeremy and I have entered the phase where you suddenly start seeing the things you dislike about the other person. We argue and bicker constantly about traits, values; the things that matter when you look for a lifelong partner.

"I've been yearning for a relationship for so long I forgot the unpleasant side of it. Hindi ba puedeng happy lagi?" I said trying to make light of the issues. 

"It's work Kane, you know that. A lot of work," E said trying to console me. 

"I know but sometimes it feels like there are so many things going against us. He can be so difficult," I said. "Not to mention I'm still struggling with the fact that he is married and has kids. It can be too much to take sometimes. I don't want to be a mistress forever. And what he did ... it hurt me. He hurt me. That he can give up so easily? We're just scratching the surface of what real problems really are."

"And I know ... I know. He probably feels hurt too. That I hurt him," I said.

"You know, I know it's not easy," E said. "But what you have is passion Kane. Very few couples have that. Most of us settle for safe, which is what you want. What I have. And that's a good thing."

"But if I have a chance at something as intense as what you feel, I'd hold on to it for as long as I can," E slowly said. "And I mean, Ikaw yan eh. That mind-blowing, blood-curling, orgasmic shit I'm-on-top-of-the-world kind of love."


"And if, at the end, it still doesn't work out?" I asked.


"Then it will make for one beautiful memory."
 

"Well ... it seems it's already not working out," I said, sighing. "Hay E. Ang hirap. I miss him."

"Alam ko Kane. Alam ko."

"Do you think you'll make it?" he asked.


"Honestly, I don't know. The odds are not in our favor," I answered. I was quiet for awhile, remembering Jeremy. "But I'd like to hope we will. I mean, isn't that what the great love stories are all about? Beating all the odds?" 







They say love makes the world go round and round. But sometimes it only feels like you're a fool on a merry-go-round. But top ... or bottom, don't get too comfortable kids. Because the only thing you can rely on is that the wheel will keep on turning.












XOXO

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Tuesday, March 20, 2012

When Stories Are All We've Got

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Previously: (Please read these first to better understand the story below, and play the video at the end.)
So Goodbye, These Days Are Gone

"of all the edifices man has built,
no one can deny, no one who has lived at least,
that love is the frailest structure of all...
built to tumble, meant to fall."

"I still remember what I told him last year on his birthday, that whether he's 24 or 40 or 60, I hope we will always have each other."

Long, Long Ago and Oh, So Far Away

"That is the curse of secrets, I think. It gives new meaning to old memories. I wasn't even sure if he really did love me."

A Year Ago

"For the first ... and last time in my life, I felt that kind of love. And the memory of it is beautiful ... enough to last. Enough to give me comfort on nights like these... when love seems so far away."






Manuel was twenty-four then, I was twenty-seven and we were in love. When I write about him now,  it is tempting to dismiss it as one of those ordinary affairs people have. But I know that what I felt was as deep and as rich as love can ever get, with all its shades and complexities.

He had poise and a quiet dignity. His eyes, I remember, were black like his hair, and he was lean and tall, gentle and fragile-looking. And so in the summer of 2007, I took him out on our first real date. I had just gotten back from trekking the mountains in northern Vietnam and I was eager to see him.

We ate at a restaurant which served fusion dishes and neo-Filipino food. I was very nervous. I wanted to say something special and profound. I wanted to be sophisticated and elegant and wise. I wanted to impress him.

It turned out I did. We had a second date, and then a third. And so on. The next few weeks was a whirlwind of romance and desire, of hearts racing and pulses quickening. It was the birth of love.



The thing about a story is that we dream it as we tell it, and in this way memory and fantasy and words combine to create stories in our heads. You make people talk, they become alive. They sometimes say things like "I'm sorry" which is what Manuel said to me long after he was gone.

Even now I can still see Manuel walking away after we said our final goodbye. The sun had set and the streets were oddly quiet. He asked me to meet him on his last day in Manila months after our break-up, he was leaving tomorrow for America. I had a strange feeling I will never see him again. I never did.




Even after some time had passed, I would dream of Manuel, dream of our happier days, dream of time gone by. In them, we were still in love. None of the terrible things had happened yet, they were set in a future that was still to come. Blissfully unaware of the tragedy that was approaching, soothed and enveloped in the flames of our love, we were happy. Until one day, he stopped appearing in my dreams.

There was something different about the dream where I saw him last. It was vivid, more solid. It felt real. We were driving in the countryside on the outskirts of Manila to revisit a restaurant we loved which overlooked the Taal Lake. It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining and a cool breeze was blowing.

Manuel turned to me and it seemed like he was about to say something important. I tried to stop him. I didn't want to ruin the moment, it was a time to be carefree. There would be time for seriousness later.

But he looked at me with his eyes so soft and so sad. "I'm sorry Kane," he said.

"It's alright," I nodded. I was about to cry. I had waited so long for him to say those words and finally, here they were. "Alam ko. (I know.) I forgive you."

I squeezed his hand, I didn't want to let go. If only I could hold on to my anger and pain just a little bit longer, I'd be able to keep him here, a prisoner of my dreams. But I knew. It was time to set him free. It was time to set myself free. I stepped on the gas and the car sped up the highway. We were racing, racing. To where, I wasn't exactly sure.

And then it becomes 2012. I'm thirty-two years old, and still remembering Manuel. Though he's no longer really Manuel, but made up with a different name and a different identity, like the man who never was. It doesn't matter. I loved him and then he left me.

And yet right here, under the spell of memory and imagination, I can still see him as if through a mist, as if I'm gazing into some other world, a place where there are no goodbyes, no death, no heartaches. I can see others too, my other lovers Marvin and Kenneth and Ed and Kristine, the only girl I ever loved. They're all there, smiling and waving at me.

And sometimes, I see myself driving on a highway with Manuel under a dark moonless sky. I'm young, I'm happy. I'll never die. I'm driving across the surface of my own history, moving fast and when I step on the gas and speed into the present, five years later, I realize it is as if I am giving myself hope, trying to save myself with a story.





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Friday, November 25, 2011

A Wedding and a Funeral

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I. Here Comes The Bride



My sister was getting married. Shobe, as I fondly call her, was marrying Junie, her boyfriend of nine years. Armed with a Barong Tagalong and accompanied with seven of my closest friends, I flew to Davao to attend the wedding. I had been preparing myself for this.

"OMG!! Bakit ang dami ninyo? (Why are there so many of you?)" my sister Honeylet asked me.

"Bakit? (Why?) I need my own entourage. Akala mo ikaw lang?" I replied.

"Hahaha. Gaga ka talaga. Baka matalo niyo pa ang entourage ko!" she said laughing.

"Humanda ka! (Be ready!)" I said.



A month ago, Carlo, Fran and I observed a wedding in the island of Boracay.

"How strange no," I said. "How weddings make you sentimental. Every time I witness two people getting married, it makes me want to get married as well. It makes you feel you're ready. All of a sudden, you become the relationship girl."

They both nodded, agreeing. We were all lost in our respective reveries while sipping mojitos at the hotel's bar.

"But then, when you're in the club and some cute guys are flirting with you, you suddenly think 'parang hindi pa ako ready' (or, maybe not)," I said and we burst out laughing.

"Exactly!" Carlo said. "That's my ultimate test. If I can give up all the fun of flirting for one guy."

"Oh God. It's just soooooo hardddd honey," I said and we laughed. We all know what I meant



She was the most beautiful girl I have ever seen, that was the first thought in my head when I saw her. Her face shone with a light that revealed the happiness she was feeling.






"Oh my God. Is that a Vera Wang?" my friends asked me when they saw her wedding gown.

"Yep. Love?" I replied. "But then again: what do you expect? She's that kind of girl. She deserves the best." 

The gown was my present for her. She chose it and I wanted her to have the wedding of her dreams.



The ceremony took place in a garden overlooking the sea. The sun was setting and the dying light cast a golden glow on everyone. Their vows were simple but true. My sister started with "I believe in the life we have..." I cried, of course.

I was asked to say something during the dinner.  "And now, we would hear the bride's brother speak," the host said.

That was my cue. I stood up, and walked to the center of the room. I was nervous. I had little time to prepare and only made notes in my head. I looked around and saw the happy faces of the bride and the groom, their friends and families. Oh how everybody glowed.

"For those who don't know who I am, I'm Honeylet's brother," I said, introducing myself. "I used to say she is my favorite sister in the whole wide world. She always answers by saying I really didn't have a choice."

The audience laughed. I saw my sister smile. It was our favorite joke.

"During the past year, I've seen my sister got so stressed planning for the wedding. It was really a roller coaster ride. And I wondered why people made such a fuss about weddings. And I realized it's because they want their weddings to be perfect.

I paused. "Because they want their marriages to be perfect."

"I used to have a friend," I continued. "Her husband left her after they've been married for almost 20 years. And she told me, 'Marriages can be so fragile pala talaga no?'"

"Relationships are fragile," I said.

Relationships are fragile. I've learned that myself. I thought of all the lovers I had and the promises we never kept. I thought of all the failed romances in the world and the odds that two people will love each other forever.

I brought back my focus to the wedding. "Sometimes, I can't help but be worried after seeing many couple divorce or end up unhappy. I mean ... she's my only sister."

"But then I realize I really don't have anything to worry. Because we have the best relationship heroes one can possibly have in this world," I said and stopped.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to give a toast to my Mom and Dad who I've seen have loved each other more and more as they grew older. They've taught us how to love our partners, how to care and nurture each other, how to be patient and understanding."

My parents were stunned. I knew they didn't expect that. But I wanted to give them credit for what they have achieved in their 30 years of marriage. Without knowing it, they have inspired me and made me wish I can have a love like that.

"They are my relationship heroes," I said. "And I'd like to think that a love like theirs can happen all the time."

"Shobe, Junie, masaya ako para sa inyo (I am happy for you both)," I continued. "It's a beautiful day and I am excited for the life you will have. Mahal ko kayo (I love you both) and I will always be here for you."




Hours later, my friends and my sister's friends have finally depleted the open bar of its entire contents. Everyone was laughing and smiling, and dancing and taking lots of photos.




































The night was ending and I was tired but happy. I looked around and I saw how everyone was having such a great time. I went to the bar to scavenge for any last bit of alcohol and I saw my ex boyfriend Marvlitz there. He was my first boyfriend and we were together when I was still sharing a room with my sister during my college days.

"Kamusta? Having fun?" I asked him.

"Oo naman,. I'm really glad I came," he said. I drank the wine in my glass and finished it. We were both watching the crowd.

I turned to Marvlitz and hugged him.

"You know what, Marv, we may not have made it as lovers but I'm glad we we made it as really good friends," I said. He smiled and hugged me back.

"And I couldn't have had a better first boyfriend," I said. "I'm glad you're here to send our little girl off."

"Grabe no, kinasal na talaga si Honeylet samantalang dati tinuturuan ko lang siya sa mga assignments niya. (Can't believe Honeylet's really married. It wasn't so long ago I was just helping her with her homework.)"

"I know ... She's all grown up now, isn't she?" I said.

"She is. And you ... when are you going to get married?" Marv asked.

"Sigh ... I'll probably be an old maid," I replied and gave him a small smile.

"Well ... you'll always have me," he said and squeezed my shoulders.



They say weddings are one of a person's happiest moment. From what I have seen, I tend to think it's true. Whether it's a simple ceremony or a lavish one, at the end it's just two people promising to love each other forever.





"To have and to hold 
from this day forward, 
for better or worse, 
for richer or poorer, 
in sickness and in health, 
to love and to cherish, 
till death do us part"
-

Monday, October 10, 2011

The Way We Were

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Note: Please play the video at the end before reading the story.



The moment Albert stepped inside the club, people stopped and stared. Guys paused midway their conversations, their whirling, dancing, drinking and crotch grabbing to steal casual glances at him. And then slowly look at me.

Why, you might ask. Because I was leading him by the hand which was, I suppose, a not so subtle way of saying "Back off ladies, the boy is mine." Except ... he wasn't really mine.

It was Albert's first time in the club. Which meant he was a fresh face.

"Don't you just love fresh meat?" I said.

"I know," Arlan replied. "They're just so … "

"Fresh?" I said, and we both laughed.



Albert and I dated a few years ago. We haven't seen each other in a while but we kept in touch through the years. He and his boyfriend had a huge fight and that was why he was out tonight.

"Actually Kane, andoon kasi boyfriend ko. Inaway niya ako para makalabas siya (my boyfriend's there. We had a fight just so he could go out)," Albert told me. He was hesitating to join us.

"Come on. You don't have to worry. Hindi naman kita pababayaan. (I'll take care of you)."

After a while, the inevitable happened. They saw each other and froze. When Albert introduced us, I could see the boyfriend was taken aback that Albert was out, and more importantly, that his boyfriend was out with us.



"I bet your boyfriend was shocked to see you earlier," I said. We were at home with my friends who decided to continue the party, and Albert opted to join us.

"Yeah. Akala niya siya lang ang marunong (He thought only he could play the game)," he replied.

I plopped down beside him on the bed. Tell me about him, I commanded.

Albert and his boyfriend have been together for about a year. He had recently found out his lover was cheating on him.

"Did you confront him?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"What did he say?"

"He said 'Ganito na talaga ako (This is how I am). Tanggapin mo na lang'."

I listened intently to Albert's stories. His voice was hushed, sad; can't stay, can't leave. Stuck. Fuck, he says. Why? He asks. Why am I not enough?



"Ikaw, kamusta ka (how are you)?" Albert asked.  "It seems like you're still the boy I first met," he said, giving me a crooked smile.

I shook my head. "Nahhh … I've gotten old Albert. I'm no longer the same boy."

"Do you still remember when we first met?" he suddenly asked.



Four years ago …

I was at a party hosted by a friend on a penthouse overlooking the glitzy city of Makati. I was out on the terrace, holding a glass of Merlot, admiring the skyline when I turned and bumped into a stranger. I spilled my drink and some of its contents were now causing stains on the guy's jeans

"Oh fuck. I'm sorry, pasensya," I said, embarrassed at my clumsiness.

"It's okay," he said. I looked up and saw that, the stranger was well, cute.

He had an accent which marked him as someone not from Manila. It was adorable. We found out we both actually hailed from the same province; that he had arrived in the city only recently. He and his friends were about to leave when he suddenly whispered text me, and surreptitiously gave me his number.



Present …

"I still remember ...  diba diyan tayo nag sex (wasn't that where we fucked)?" Albert said and suddenly, one by one pointed out certain spots in the room.

"Oh my God! Gago ka. You remember?" I said, astounded.

"Nakakainis ka nga eh," I said. "You didn't even suck me then."

"Hayaan mo na," he said. "Alam mo naman, bago pa lang ako noon and marami pang issues. (You know I was just new then in the scene and still had a lot of issues.)"

"But if you want … you can fuck me now," Albert added.

"Whaaaaat? Tang-ina mo. Gago ka. (You fucking piece of shit.) You wouldn't even put my dick in your mouth before and now you let guys fuck you. Nakakainis ka!"

I pretended to be miffed. "Come on, don't be upset na," he said. "Let's set a date so you can fuck me."

"You never got to keep your promise. You told me I'd be the first," I told him. Once, in the middle of our cuddling, he promised me I would be his first. But not all promises are kept.

"I know Kane. Some things just happen."



After a while, he bid me goodbye. I walked him out the door.

"Uy, salamat ha. (Hey, thanks a lot.) It was really good to see you again," he said.

I took his hand and squeezed it.

"You know … I really did like you," I slowly said, and smiled wistfully. He looked at me and nodded.

"I really did like you too," Albert answered in a quiet voice. "Perhaps, if we had met at a different time … "

So there we were. The years have passed but our pasts continue to haunt us. We were young, eager lads; now one's an unhappy husband, the other a gallivanting man around town. It seems the love we were looking for had somehow eluded us and all that we have right now is this tender thing; a memory of who we used to be ... and perhaps it is enough.

I hugged him tightly. "Goodbye, Albert," I whispered. He turned to leave. I stared at his back until his image slowly faded away.




-

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Gossip Girl: The Last Days of Disco

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Previously on Gossip Girl:
The Valley Girls



Morning Sleepyheads! Time to wake up from bad dreams, roll out of our beds and start making plans for a brighter future. Even if it means we need to leave the past behind.



"We are now processing the 'Application of Immigrant Visa & Alien Registration' form and I need some information from you. I am scanning you a copy of the draft form for you to fill out the missing information in a separate piece of paper … "


The letter went on and on but all I could do was read the first line over and over again. So this is it ... the time has come.

I shouldn't have been so surprised. I have always known I would leave the Philippines one day. When I was twenty two, my mom, dad and my sister migrated to the U.S. I was left behind because I had exceeded the age limit mandated by their law.

My parents eventually petitioned for me and well, it looks like I am finally coming home. Or … was I?



Home is such a powerful, visceral word that resonates in every human being, the idea of a place where you belong. But somehow, over my years of growing up, it has seemed to elude me, how it always felt like it was here but inexplicably over there at the same time. Every part of me seemed miles and centuries apart and each place and time called itself my home.
 
Where ... or what ... or who is home?
 
I left my hometown Cotabato City when I was thirteen to study in Manila. I lived alone for four years and stayed at a dormitory. I suppose I was forced to grow up much faster than a normal young boy. I had to take care of myself, buy my own groceries, budget my own money, plan my schedules, be independent.

My parents were always supportive but they were just so far away and it was at that age when plane fares would cost an arm and a leg. And  we weren't rich. So visits were far and few in between.

My sister eventually joined me when she came here for her college education. Those were some of the happiest years of my life. My sister and I share an intimate bond that I think … no, that I know will last forever. And yes, Rudeboy, I know forever's an awfully long time. Such a word isn't to be taken lightly.

So I know I should be happy that I will be joining them, but why do I feel more sad than joyful? I suppose, instinctively, I knew this is one of those life changing moments in our lives, that I was leaving a place and a time I can never go back to. Because when I do go back, I would no longer be the same man. And people and friends would have changed and moved on with their lives. And all that's left, sometimes, are our memories of days gone by.

Manila is the sum of everything that I am and more; who I am when I drink and dance with my friends on Saturday nights, who I am when I wake up with a stranger in my bed, who I am when I get lonely during cold nights, who I am when I find love, who I am when I lose it.

Yet it seems I must go away and leave it all behind to find my future.
 
 
 
"Honey, I have news," I told Fran and took a deep breath. "My visa might finally come anytime soon."
 
"Oh," she replied, caught by surprise. "Wow. When do you think you're leaving?"

"Sometime next year. I'm trying to delay it until around July," I said. "It's all very uncertain but we still have some time," I said and smiled at her.

She nodded. "I'm happy for you hun. I've always known you were meant for great things, you were always bound for somewhere else. Somewhere not here. And you finally get to be with your family."

"I know. But … you're my family too Fran. I mean, we raised each other. All of the boyfriends and mean girls and break-ups and crazy family dramas, we learned through it together. You're my best friend."

"Do you think I'll make it there?" I asked her quietly. "Do you think I'll be lonely? What will I do without you Fran?"

"All I know is you will shine, like you always have, like you always will," Fran said as she tried to reassure me.

"I'm not so sure about that," I replied.

"I am," she said. "Ikaw pa. (You of all people.) It looks like you're heading to one big adventure hun. I only wish I can be there to share it with you. Aren't you excited?"

"I guess it's because ang saya saya ko dito (I guess it's because I'm really, really happy here)," I said wistfully.

"I know. You have a comfortable life, money, an amazing job, wonderful friends, you get to travel and you get a lot of boys. For most people, it's enough," Fran said.

"For most ... sigh."

"Except, you're not like most people. I know it's hard to leave but I know you also know you need to do this," she continued.

"I do hun, I do. Manila's getting too comfortable, and I still have other dreams to fulfill." I said.

"I guess this is it huh," I finally said and gave her a smile.

"I guess it is," Fran said.



And all in an instant, everything changes. We leave the past behind and speed toward the unknown. Our future.

But no matter how old we get and how far we go, we always need a place to call home. Because without the people you love most you can't help but feel all alone in the world. But only time will tell ... if they'll stay or leave you too.









XOXO
-

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

The Lost Continent of My Twenties

-



For my sister Honeylet who has been with me through every journey. Happy birthday my love.


They say time is what ultimately gives meaning to all things; that we only recognize the importance of something when we look back at it.

When I recently re-read some of my stories in this blog, I realized that I was looking at the disappearance of a whole continent I know I may never touch again - Gossip Girl Birthday Balls, Grand Canyon sunsets and Machu Picchu sunrises, adventures with my sister, red leggings and a harem - in short, the land of my self-absorbed twenties.

So raucous and full of joy, they strike me now as obsessed with loss and nostalgia and the One Big Love that never worked out but wouldn't go away, either.

That life is drifting away from me, an inch at a time. Work is now taking up more and more of my time, some friends have become distant, my sister is getting married in November.

Sometimes I wonder once she's become a wife and a mom, will she still have time for her brother? What about our dreams to explore unknown lands together and see the Great Pyramid of Khufu, the Orient Express, the Byzantines churches.

Perhaps those dreams are gone.



While writing my stories, perhaps I was dimly aware that time is passing, that things will change. I didn't want to let go of my past; to forget, to become disengaged, to become disentangled.

I wanted to remember. I wanted to build a shrine to honor it, to give it a mark in my new land. I wanted to mythologize it. This, I think, is one of the great privileges of a writer; to create a myth out of a personal experience.

Some say it is best to burn the bridge and move on; to never look back. But I believe it takes more courage to go back and face our past, both the beautiful and ugly parts of it, and recognize it for what it really was. Perhaps for the very first time.

So without knowing it, I was building my shrine to the slowly vanishing continent of my twenties. Some of that terrain was as gorgeous as the Manila setting where most of them are based; full of shimmering curtains of rain and deeply rooted desires.

Much of it was dark and thick with blinding smog too; some almost impassable. But broken love and dreams deserve a shrine; even if its just a few words and scraps of memories.
-

Thursday, July 28, 2011

Grateful

-



Previously:
Fearless



I woke up alone in an empty hotel room. Plastic cups were scattered all over the tables, couches and on the kitchen sink along with some McDonald's fries and chocolate cake leftovers.

I looked at the clock and saw it was eight in the morning. I had barely two hours of rest. My head was hurting from the lack of sleep and alcohol intake from last night. I took a deep sigh and started cleaning up the mess.

So this is how it feels like to be thirty one, I told myself.  Just when I had gotten used to the sound of thirty, I had to add another syllable. Thirty … one.

Thirty one is such an awkward age. Thirty was the end of a decade, the start of a new one. It heralded so many things; the promise of maturity, a more comfortable life, fewer issues, less drama, and perhaps love.

Or so I thought.



I was feeling strangely sad as my birthday approached. I brushed it off, told myself it was just the usual birthday blues. I guess birthdays are that one day in a year that you long to feel special. I haven't felt that way in a long time.

I missed spending my birthday with my family. I miss my Mom and Dad, my Shobe. I don't have a boyfriend and my friends have been … well … busy with their own lives.



A couple of days after my birthday, Neil and I had a chat. He had just spent the previous weekend partying during the gay pride celebration in Toronto.

"Gay pride was a blast but it always leaves you empty," he said. "One million faggots and not a single one to … oh whatever. LOL. Birthday mo na Kane."

"Well… it was actually two days ago."

"Akala ko 5? Kaya naman ako nag text kasi sabi sa kalendaryo ko 5. Sorry!!!"

"It's okay Neil. I heard old age does that to you. Makes you forgetful," I teased him. "I still appreciate it."

"How was it? Did you do anything special?" Neil asked.

"Well, it wasn't one of my happiest. But it taught me something important," I said.

"Not the happiest, but it was still happy I hope. What did it teach you?



Vackie, Edward and I had decided to rent a room at a hotel and invite a few people over on the eve of my birthday. Nothing fancy, really. Just a quiet night with friends. Vackie, Edward and Arlan didn't show up.

Vackie and Edward eventually apologized days later. I accepted their explanations and told them it's okay. But I realized, just because you understand, it doesn't mean you don't feel bad pala. I haven't heard from Arlan.

I have been grappling with the changes in us; these people are some of my most cherished and loved among my friends, and I miss them.



"Hay Neil, I was sliding into depression when out of the blue, a wise friend told me a simple fact. Life has its different seasons. Even friendships, I guess."

"Nangungulila lang siguro ako. I'm tired of being alone. Pero perky na uli ako :)," I told Neil.

"Mabuti na lang you have wise friends. I usually have to face that battle alone," he said. "Count your blessings. Buti naman at perky ka na."

"I do, I do. I guess it's because I give myself so much to my friends. They're my family here kasi, but people do disappoint you. But you become more understanding rin pala. More forgiving. Gawd, is this maturity?"



They're not just my friends, they're my family. Because my family lives far away, my friends have become more important to me. They're the ones I talk to everyday, to ask how your day was, to share your stories with.

Sometimes, when you give yourself to a person; be it a friend, a lover, a husband, a wife, you expect certain things in return. That they value you, that they give back. That things won't change. But friendships are relationships too, and like most things in life, they change too.

As André Aciman said in his essay in the New York Times titled The Day He Knew Would Come

"...this is how it always is and has been: things come and then they go, and however we bicker with time and put all manner of bulwarks to stop it from doing the one thing it knows, the best thing is learning how to give thanks for what we have."

Perhaps, that day had come. If last year was about learning to be fearless, this year was about teaching myself to be grateful. And I am. I am incredibly lucky, and I realized despite the hits and misses in my life, I am happy.

Rudeboy once said it may be too much to ask for a life without regrets. That perhaps all we can do is to hope that our joys outweigh our sorrows.



"Sige na Neil. Don't text back anymore. I'll call you soon. I'm really happy you remembered.

Neil, kung wala ka pang boyfriend next year, puntahan sana kita sa birthday mo. (Neil, if you don't have a boyfriend by next year, I was thinking maybe I could come visit you on your birthday.)"

He didn't reply.






A few days later, I was drinking at a bar near my place with a friend, catching up while dancing to 80s, 90s and pop music. I don't think I've ever heard Beyoncé, the Spice Girls and Cyndi Lauper all played in one night.

We were thoroughly enjoying ourselves when sudddenly, my phone beeped. It was a message from Neil.

"Ano? Sa birthday ko?"
-