Skip to main content

UNTITLED: Part 3 - Wake up call

Parting ways as friends had both the positive and negative side of it. It is positive in the sense that you still get to see each other, call each other, and still be sweet to each other. On the down side, you fall into a trap of misinterpreting your proximity—emotionally or physically—still believing that there is still a chance for you to continue a relationship that you have just ended.

From February to March, I was practically out-of-town, thus I had no problems communicating to him and vowed that we would continue to see each other whenever we get the chance. I was “free” to do anything I wanted and not be bothered being caught talking intimately with someone over the phone for more than one hour. We discussed anything under the sun—my prospects for dates, suitors (smile!), American Idol, PBB (which I watched because of him.), his crushes, and other stuff. Ironically, it was the time that I was beginning to know more about him, and him about me when we were no longer committed to each other. It came to a point that I kept on asking him if it were possible to start all over again. Yet, he was adamant. He was consistent in reminding me of the reason why we have to part ways. It was fine with me, because he kept me grounded, and that the reason why we were calling each other was only out of friendship and nothing else.

We met again after the V-day. I would say this post valentine rendezvous was memorable for we have finally let go of that suppressed longing for each other. We practically savored every moment. Again, the feeling—that we could continue our short-lived relationship after sharing intimate moments together—came up again. However, propriety dictates, we could not really commit with each other, that I even teased him, “So, I am JUST a fuck buddy, after all!”

Although we both laughed at it, I was sure that I said it with seriousness and a bit of cynicism. He became serious, and told me I am a special friend.

“Special friend ka diyan! I would appreciate it more if you will just call me fuck buddy!” I replied sarcastically.

We both laughed at our childishness, and we slept cuddling each other until next morning, when we have to part ways again, which is always difficult. Had it not been for the fact that I will return after two weeks, I would really feel so hurt. We both anticipated the day that we would meet again.

After we met, I went to Davao. Again, we burned the lines. One night, I called him and we reached a point when we had to share intimacies again. I brought the idea of us being together. I asked him what is the point of sharing intimacies and telling we still miss each other, when we could not even commit to a relationship. We had a discussion, until we argued and he brought the issue on my status. I felt I was pushed to a wall. I was simply out of words. I thought how stupid I was to have brought up the issue again knowing that it would end up that way. I felt I was a loser.

That time, I recalled how my friends have told me to stop this craziness (if it were crazy to fall in love, after all), and move on. How many times have I promised myself to move on? But I realized I could not move on. I knew I was clingy but it was only the time that I have proven that I still seek comfort in something I could not even touch. My friends have been telling me to forget all about him. I was just stubborn. That time, I had to face it. It was as if a gun was pointing at me, and pulling the trigger depended on my instructions. The bullet was for me, and I was afraid to “die.”

At past midnight after that argument, never have I felt so low. How have I wanted to be with my friends to listen to my story and cheer me up, but I was alone in the coldness of my hotel room. Then I called Javert who happens to have become a confidant. His phone was off. I felt that I was the only one wide-awake that night. I was wallowing in my own misery. I had no company but the TV, which I kept on, until I dozed off.

At exactly 6:00 AM, I woke up with the incessant ringing of my mobile phone. I also realized I have left the heavy curtain open the night before. The bright morning sunlight already flooded my room, which stung my tired eyes that I could barely open them. Under the white sheets, I answered my phone. It was from Javert. It felt good talking it over with him. We talked for a while, and left me with a very practical advise—do not meet him anymore, and do not give any chance for intimacies…just MOVE ON.

I thanked him for that wake up call. I got up from my bed, which cuddled me—giving me comfort and warmth after that grueling night with my fears, my weaknesses and flaws, and with my vulnerabilities.

I walked to the glass window facing the sunrise. The street below was busy with cars and people moving to their destination for the day. I let go of a smile in my lips. I, too, was going to prepare myself for a work. After all, it was new, clear and crisp day waiting for me.
Enhanced by Zemanta

Comments

Post a Comment

Thank you for reading and sharing my passion...feel free to write your comments!

Popular posts from this blog

A letter from Badong

t Image via Wikipedia Dear Mr. G, I am writing this letter to end all of your and the rest of the barkada's suspicions about me—that is being gay. I know, Mr. G, that you are always asking me if I have a girlfriend or not. Once, you even asked me if I have a boyfriend. I almost told you I had one, but was unsure of what you will say or think about me. I tell you now, I am gay. I hope you are not shocked. Although I have had relationships with women/girls in high school and college, I always knew I was attracted to men—since elementary days. There is no denying that I slept with most of them. I mean it when I say now that I have had good sex with them. So to say, I was not homosexually active then.

That 1 million dollar question

Image via Wikipedia Whenever I meet some PLUs or should I say those who are close to me--intimately and emotionally, I make it a point to tell them I am married.  I do not want to fool them.  Then they begin to ask a question: "When did you realize you are gay/bisexual? Before or after the marriage?" Answering this question is like undergoing a revalida.  An answer leads to a battery of questions.  It was uncomfortable. Suddenly, I scamper and grope for theories or schools of thought on homosexuality. I, myself is at a quandary "when, what, who, how."

2 years and 7 months

...are the number of years and months that I haven't had sex with a guy!   You may not believe it, but it is true.  I have stopped getting emotionally involved more than 4 years ago , and I allowed myself to vanish from the gay circles more that two years ago. Sex is very much a part of me, and sex with men adds spice to my otherwise heterosexual biological needs.  This was a self-imposed hiatus and hibernation.  I do not know if I have to congratulate myself or not because from time to time, I still hanker for intimate moments with a man.  I may appear to be pathetic, but sometimes, I do not feel that way either.