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.
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.
Hey. I linked you.
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ReplyDeleteThank you.
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