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5.12.2006

UNTITLED: Part 1 Another unfinished business

THE NEXT MONTHS after my previous article “Unfinished Business,” I was glued to my new job. I was new at my work and many adjustments had to be done. Writing, therefore, was out of the question. Maybe, also because I had nothing to share about my gay life. I was practically in hibernation--temporarily succumbing to “homosexual celibacy” after nearly a month that I wrote “Unfinished Business.”

Sometime in January this year, I mentioned that I am coming back because I mentioned I had a very interesting story to share. Then, I chickened out. Rather, I lost the zest to put my feelings and thoughts into words. My mind was simply muddled up with work pressures and the intermittent emotional attacks that were plaguing me. I guess temporary depression held me. Again, I was holding on to something I could not let go. I was engrossed with nurturing a feeling that I realized was slowly creeping in and eating my entire being.

This is “untitled” because I simply could not figure out how I should call this article. Also, it explains the state of my mind while writing this article.

Another Unfinished Business

Reading my previous articles has never failed me reminisce and then let go of a smile. A smile that would make me realize how feeble or how strong I was. It was simply good to keep your memoirs in writing because you can always look back to steer you from were you have left off. In one of my previous article entitled “Passing Through” in the first quarter of 2005, I wrote:

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 Sunrise

Daydream delusion
Limousine eyelash
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?

In that same article, I said something like: And to D.D., I hope to see you again in my future journey…--I never met him again after that—not because I intended to do so. I just did not have time to meet him again. Nevertheless, in one of my travels, I did meet someone. I met him more than once. He was special—and I think he still is.

After I wrote “Passing Through,” I met “Enzo”. After the getting-to-know-you encounter, we never thought it would end up to something more than just a simple conversation of tired and hankering souls. I guess there was that connection we were all looking for in our brief encounters. For me, it was one of those unforgettable encounters.

Enzo told me he wished he could stay longer in my hotel room so that we could spend the night and that I could hug him longer—and not only that night. I told him that even though I entertained the idea, it would not just be possible. As he snuggled in my arms, he asked the reason. I told him it would hard to sustain a relationship because of our distance and that I just broke up with my ex who is also from out-of-town, and moving into another long-distance relationship would be another heart- wrenching experience for me. However, deep inside, something was more important than physical distance and my recent break up, that by not telling him the real reason would only reduce me to one of those men who hide their identity to well-meaning guys like Enzo. I also told him that I am married, that is why. He seemed to have accepted it. Nonetheless, we parted but with a promise we would still see each other again when I come back early this year.

While entertaining the idea that we both feel something for each other, the thought of parting ways was equally, if not more painful and disappointing to us. From time to time, we chatted when we catch each other on-line, or I would leave messages to him, which were sometimes left ignored. It was no big deal to me. I just thought I should keep the communication open so that we would be still at ease when we meet again next time. I accepted and understood the fact that we could not enter into a relationship that was doomed from the start. I just thought that maybe, it was just one of those ephemeral encounters—a one-night stand, which could never end up in a serious relationship.

Eventually, I have forgotten all about him. Who was I, anyway, to waste time for? Maybe I was just one of those guys he has met and will still meet. I just shrugged off the “could-have-been” feeling and concentrated on work, which was driving me crazy.

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