I THOUGHT he would not give in to my incessant request for an eyeball. I met him through the net and when I had the chance to travel in one of the cities in the south where he lives, I thought that meeting him would be a great idea. At first, he was hesitant. He said he had some very personal reasons why we should never meet. I told him it’s just a dinner and I was not expecting anything romantic or sexual to happen. After all, I am way below his Hispanic looks. He looks really stunning in his picture. He was hesitant. Finally, he said he is on the big side that is why. So I told him, I am not guwapo like him, so what should be the problem? And I told him that it is okay if he is not comfy meeting me. After a few minutes, I guess my charm had him agree to meet me at 7 pm that day. So he picked me up at a little past 7 PM from the hotel then we went through this cozy grill restaurant and ordered tangigue steak and veggie (because he avoids pork).
The conversation really went well. He spoke perfect accented English. I thought he is a learned and cultured guy. Indeed, I was correct. He studied in Manila and went back to his hometown to work. I told him, he also sounded so good. Does he work for a radio? Again, I was correct. He is a disc jock and a wedding singer. Gee! I never thought I could be this good in knowing people.
Listening to him makes you forget he has extra kilos. He is intelligent and always has the right words to say. Indeed, (And should I say finally? No offense to my friends.) I have found someone who converses well and someone who has “IT” in between his ears and not between his legs.
Honestly, I found myself really intellectually and (also) physically attracted to this guy. (Smile.) But I was so afraid to make a move. My hands were beside his, while his chauffer drove us back to the hotel. I wanted to hold his hand. But I held myself back. I was so shy. We shook hands as we parted ways. I had to be back to the hotel since I arranged for a massage service by a masseur.
I patiently waited for the masseur who, unfortunately, did not arrive. Then I got a text message from him, wishing me the best of my massage session. I told him I was disappointed because it had been cancelled. We both laughed at the situation because I was telling him the masseur is cute and I was making some moves the first time he did it to me. Then we exchanged messages until it came to a point when he asked if he could see my abs because he wondered how my picture looked like in real life. I played with him. I told him it was not a bad idea. I made him promise he would only look at it. We were both amused.
So he went, then we found ourselves entangled—physically. I guess it was the intellectual connection that made it. Not really physical, because I am not attractive and he really looked guwapo.
I told him many say that chubby people are malambing. Indeed, I was correct. Then we talked about his crushes when we saw Richard Gutierrez on TV. He said he is attracted to Richard Gutierrez. I told him that Richard is really hot, and wondered how it would feel making it out with him (and we even wondered if ever the twins were making it out themselves! Cheezy! Shhhhhhh! It’s just a wild thought…not a chizmiz!).
“You are already lying beside him,” he chuckled. I was a bit taken aback. Was this guy conceited? I guessed not. The conversation was spontaneous, and most of all, he is well aware of his looks, and his insecurities.
I leaned over to check. Indeed he is correct! “Oh, my! My Aguiluz! I kidded! You are correct! You look like him!”
“Oh, no! He is far sexier than me!”
“Yeah, you need to trim down,” I matter-of-factly told him. It was well-intended though. I just hoped he was not hurt with what I said.
Before everyone else in the hotel woke up, he had to go home because his mom would look for him. He was also worried about his pet dog. I would say, I had a great time with him.
A WEEK AGO, I had the chance to go back. We agreed to meet in my hotel room at 8 pm after his work in the station. When I went down for dinner, I realized it was not a good idea if we meet at my hotel room again. My company booked me at this small cozy hotel. It is my company’s “suki” hotel, and the entire staff knows my office and my officemates. The hotel was just a small and well guarded, and everybody that comes in have to tell the guards where they would go.
I texted telling him I had to cancel it. I explained my side, and offered an invitation that maybe we could meet someplace and have coffee the next day. He never texted back. I worried that he might have been hurt. He replied telling me he was not hurt and he had some other plans, too. I accepted his text message at face value. It was not just appropriate to think of other things other than what he said. So again I proposed if we could meet after his work in my third night. I failed to text him to confirm. I fell asleep after my work and woke up before the hotel restaurant was to close, and forgot all about him. I was so sorry and too dyahe to text back.
The next day, on my flight to another destination, I remembered him. I was so angry at myself. I did not even bother to text him before my flight. I did not have the guts to text him how sorry I was. He is such a nice a person and a friend to deserve such treatment from me. That is why, I am writing this to tell him I am sorry for the mess. It would be another 6 months before I could go back and see him again.
WE ARE ALL IN JOURNEY. We are strangers in an unfamiliar and not so familiar place, where we meet people whom we barely know. Everything seems transitory, but we cannot refuse to acknowledge the fact that they reside in our memories. It becomes uncomforting if we just let them evade us. Sometimes we choose to make them disappear in the darkest and deepest corners of our minds, because our brief encounters are neither necessarily good nor important. However, we could not also refuse to think or admit that the seemingly ephemeral encounters make an undeniably indelible mark in our lives.
Sometimes, we become just some person momentarily painting and decorating the other person’s blank canvas. We also wished that it would not just be temporal. We also wished that that man is not just passing through. We often wished he stays to savor the good things that have come. Wishful thinking! I like it better that way.
And I would like to end this memoir with a poem from the movie “Before Sunset”
Oh, baby, with your pretty face
Drop a tear in my wine glass
Look at those big eyes
See what you mean to me
Sweet cakes and milkshakes
I am a delusion angel
I’m a fantasy parade
I want you to know what I think
Don’t want you to guess anymore
You have no idea where I came from
We have no idea where we’re going
Lodged in life, like branches in the river
Flowing downstream, caught in the current
I carry you, you’ll carry me
That’s how it could be
Don’t you know me?
Don’t you know me by now?
And to D.D., I hope to see you again in my future journey…