The second semester is up and running. I barely enjoyed the semestral break. Boy oh boy! Still got no time for myself (as usual), and it does suffice that I had this few stolen minutes to write this sorta’ entry.
Recently I was invited as a panel of reactor in a Bioethics seminar sponsored by the College. Public speaking isn’t my forte. I would have preferred prepared, written, planned speeches than spontaneous, spur-of-the-moment reactions about topics I knew nothing of. Having two (2) very distinguished speakers in the field of Medical Ethics and Clinical Psychology (as the main speakers), tens of Professors and Clinical Instructors who I adore and respect so much, hundreds of students and colleagues listening to my ranting, the Dean and the Assistant Dean of the College, with the presence of my hypercritical Religious Adviser—and with less than 5 minutes to integrate the 4-hour-long talk into forming coherent words and sentences—everything seems to be a blur, a cerebral frenzy, and an intellectual disarray.
To add to the insult, the topic of the seminar is one I abhor and detest. It’s not a nursing/medical breakthrough. Nor a clinical update. Not even a career path consultation. It’s something that is beyond my capability and powers as a person. Somewhat bioethical, yet purely exasperating…
The topic? “Love and Sexuality in a World of Diversity.”
It is a torture. No! Probably more of a personal attack.
The first speaker talks about the “Psychosexual Dimension of Human Personality.” Freudian associations and fixations is the gist. Issues of homosexuality, pornography, and sexual perversions are discussed as deviations from normalcy. The second speaker discussed “Dehumanizing Human Love and Sexuality” and focused on masturbation, homosexuality (again), fornication, same-sex marriages, and thousandloads of sexual stuffs all integrated in a talk that all I am hearing are the words “hell,” “abomination,” “abnormal,” “immoral,” and many others I can no longer recall and have no plans of doing so.
What in this world have I done to suffer all of these pains and tortures?
As if hearing all the judgments and prejudices aren’t hurtful enough, I am supposed to react constructively to this speech? What am I thinking when a good professor asked me to make a speech regarding this topic and accepted it after some serious deliberations? Saying something unconstructive about the topic will only mean one thing—personal DOOM (and to tell you, damnation is what my professors practice best).
Armed with my usual self-confidence, pink long-sleeves polo, periwinkle tie and charcoal trousers, I relayed my speech calmly, still with a lot of nerves, but not an idea out of place. Everything I said is within the limits of morality and decency. Though I mispronounced a word or two, the thought of my speech is fantastic. No, fantastic is an understatement. Fabulous and perfection are the words I prefer to use. Never in my life have I imagined speaking such words with grace and composure. Perhaps, the speech might have been instrumental in my self-expression as a human sexual person. Then suddenly, it’s not that bad at all.
The following is my truncated speech (taken from several resource off books, Web, citations, and speeches):
“The development of a healthy and mature understanding of sexuality is a necessary element to growth in wisdom and grace. Without a proper appreciation of sexuality individuals may be kept from healthy development of self and/or accepting the responsibility that goes along with the gift of sexuality. Sexuality serves the development of human persons by calling us to full openness of being, to a continued discovery and expression of each person’s unique self.
“Human sexuality is that way of being in, and relating to, the world as a person. A true integration of sexuality is a continuing process, as Mr. *** said, as its development starts from infancy and is a dynamic process up until our adulthood. Sexuality is a drive that permeates as well as influences every aspect of an individual’s life. In other words, sexuality is a dimension of a total person.
“It is vital to understand the tension between understanding Sexuality as Bad/Burden, and Sexuality as Good/Blessing. Sexuality can be destructive, abusive, exploitative and dehumanizing. It can also be creative, passionate, freeing, mutual, and loving. The truth of sexuality is that it has the potential to be a destructive power or a creative power. A progressing sense of sexual maturity ensues when an individual works towards developing a good healthy, realistic sense of self, while also realizing a good healthy realistic sense of others.
“Sexuality is a power which is relational, corresponding to our capacity to love. It reaches beyond self to another. As human beings to give and receive love, to feel love and to express love is innate in our nature. While pleasure may come easy, as Dra. **** said earlier through masturbation, fornication, and loveless sexual acts, there is an emotional aspect that many of us forget. Real love is more a matter of mutual giving than personal gratification. Love is a mysterious, complex and sometimes painful human emotion, where ecstasy comes through personal bonding more than physical stimulation. Future and present trends may well address various physical aspects of human relationships; but I doubt that it will satisfy the longings of our souls.
“Thank you and have a good day.”
The reaction of the audience is sort of a mixed bag. So does the professors (with a lot of blank stares with blunt affects, and some smiles and gestures of encouragement). I have expected this kind of feedback and I am not expecting anything more. To hell are the retorts. I stated my points, they are all mine, nothing more and nothing less, so bear with it.
But what is inspiring that afternoon are the commendations the main speakers told me. “You speak very well, it’s very good” and “What’s your name? I’m looking forward to talk to you soon personally” in verbatim. It was then that everything began to sink in my consciousness. I must be a good speaker, I told myself. And everything becomes lucid Like a clear day, I could well see forever.
What have I learn from the seminar? Just the same old, same old. I’d still prefer to be the stubborn, experimental person who I loved and adored inside-out. Still a person with a lot of dreams of finding my significant other who will stay and fight with my battles. Still a man with an imperfect mind and wishes, living in this world of immorality, inconsistency and flaws. A man who will love and feel. Still imperfect but striving to be pure and happy in this world of “sham, drudgery and broken dreams.” And a lover who would never settle for anything less.
Thank you and have a good day.
.
.
Addendum:
The affair was posted as an article from The Varsitarian (released November 25, 2005, page 3). Copies are available at the UST Varsitarian Office.
Tuesday, November 15, 2005
Friday, September 16, 2005
Seeking Sense in Styx
When I told myself that I’m ready to move on, I meant it. I swallowed every consequence, accepted all the pains, and loved all the hurts, ‘till I can no longer feel. I’m left numb, but living; empty, nevertheless purposeless.
Then I woke, like from a long bewildered slumber, to find myself totally uninspired. I no longer glowed, there was no spark, even in my most trying hours. The sadness is palpable, its as if everything has come to a halt and devoured the vigor off me.
Up ‘till someone came along, who I earnestly hope, will bring me back to the heaven I so dearly longed.
There’s a catch though, and it’s way too complicated for this entry. Maybe if I have an entire day with me, I can share the dilemma with you and seek some of your expert advice.
But at present, I know my happiness is still a long long way away. All I can share is this piece of poetry I wrote. And this is dedicated to you, the Man who made me whole again.
.
.
To you, my Man, with these words are my heartfelt wishes for your happiness. You may not know me well, yet. And perhaps, it never will. But in my heart are hopes that in this single, passing life of ours, you can get to know me well, love me, and keep me in your heart even for awhile.
.
.
SENSE
Envelop me with your arms, be
My fortress standing proud.
Make me a servant, thou master please
Ask, I will command.
Next to thy mighty bed,
Undress me, unclasping hands
Eluded from this world
Let our soul and spirits rise.
Devout and pure, its only me and you…
Push ‘till I can no longer hold
All the love you have to give
Rosy filled with intense delight
Amidst the darkness of the night
Give me your soul, your self, your spirit
As I come to the climax in this allusive dark
Slid me your entirety, till I bleed till I moan.
Just you and me throughout the dawn
Restless with passion in this eternal slumber.
.
/rjmc & edp, jr. 15 sep '05
Then I woke, like from a long bewildered slumber, to find myself totally uninspired. I no longer glowed, there was no spark, even in my most trying hours. The sadness is palpable, its as if everything has come to a halt and devoured the vigor off me.
Up ‘till someone came along, who I earnestly hope, will bring me back to the heaven I so dearly longed.
There’s a catch though, and it’s way too complicated for this entry. Maybe if I have an entire day with me, I can share the dilemma with you and seek some of your expert advice.
But at present, I know my happiness is still a long long way away. All I can share is this piece of poetry I wrote. And this is dedicated to you, the Man who made me whole again.
.
.
To you, my Man, with these words are my heartfelt wishes for your happiness. You may not know me well, yet. And perhaps, it never will. But in my heart are hopes that in this single, passing life of ours, you can get to know me well, love me, and keep me in your heart even for awhile.
.
.
SENSE
Envelop me with your arms, be
My fortress standing proud.
Make me a servant, thou master please
Ask, I will command.
Next to thy mighty bed,
Undress me, unclasping hands
Eluded from this world
Let our soul and spirits rise.
Devout and pure, its only me and you…
Push ‘till I can no longer hold
All the love you have to give
Rosy filled with intense delight
Amidst the darkness of the night
Give me your soul, your self, your spirit
As I come to the climax in this allusive dark
Slid me your entirety, till I bleed till I moan.
Just you and me throughout the dawn
Restless with passion in this eternal slumber.
.
/rjmc & edp, jr. 15 sep '05
Monday, August 01, 2005
A New Beginning
After weeks of grueling tasks of hospital rounds, nursing lecture classes, doing undergrad research thesis, and preparing for the feared periodic and oral examinations, complicated by a gross self-disorientation and an inevitable emotional disarray and breakdown, last Friday’s all night out provided a breather, or at least a buffer, to my neurotic borderline life.
With my self-proclaimed dissuasion to engage in any intimate personal contact with complete strangers of all sort, I avoided at most any circumstance that might expose myself to the world. I eschewed all the invitations from my closest acquaintances, from coffee breaks to flirting with men. I kept my exposure to the minimum. My life evolved from hospitals, to my college, and to my house, and occasionally, to this local bar (1611) where I spend my weekends with some close friends.
When my good girl friend asked my affirmation to come to her “breather party,” I vehemently refused without any consideration for my part. It’s not that I hate socializing with people; it’s just that I have no motivation or enthusiasm to come. Added to the fact that my parents might not approve of it, particularly my mom who has the incessant enjoyment of deliberately calling my friends just to know my whereabouts. But as the day of implementation approaches, I developed the gusto to come, and eventually to leave my hermetic life and spend some quality time with the living.
Admittedly, Makati is not my crowd; I would’ve enjoyed things better if we were in Malate or at Government in particular. Greenbelt used to be that same old, same old place where eternal chitchatting and meeting artificial ostentatious people abounds like cocktails in a bar. Conversely, GB has changed since my last visit quite a few months ago. It had become a totally novel place, an alcove where candor and realism is possible, where people are breathing more or less in an honest space, in a place of sheer lucidity amidst the mist hazy with smoke of uncertainty.
I was able to meet new friends in the bar we went into (Temple). Never in my mind have I thought of myself as attractive, or likable at least, but as some men approach me and stayed with me even for a little while, I developed a positive self-regard. It’s as if I felt accepted even for some little borrowed time. A precious little stretch of time where it almost feels like it had been forever.
Then it dawned on me, I miss the feeling of being appreciated and liked, things I lacked when I broke up with my significant other. Even for such little time, I was fulfilled of that need. And it felt good. And it even took a stranger I knew nothing of to enlighten me of my lacking.
All this time, this is what I failed to notice—that I can find affirmation and hope even in the most insignificant, trivial places. There is optimism behind the blinding lights of the darkest bars. Hope flourishes even in the most desolate, barren alleys. There is truthfulness amidst the crowd teeming with people wearing masks and façades. Because as always, it is what in the inside that matters. And what is outside is not always what it seems.
As we went home, I was left contemplating with what might have happened if I didn’t come. Perhaps the party might not be as happy as it was, or it might have ended in an earlier time. Yet in my mind, I felt extremely grateful to the wonderful souls who made me believe that life is still beautiful. There is still more to life than all the bitterness and lies. That behind the darkness and hopelessness lays a streak of light radiating its luminous resplendence predestined to envelop the gloom.
Maybe it’s the spark of optimism or it’s my conscious effort that I have willingly decided to just let go. All this time, I was shrouded with the pains and regrets of my failed relationship with Marco, but through the help of my loved ones, I was able to emerge from my self-created pit of loneliness and despair. I am now moving on. And I have let go completely. And what is left in my heart is the eternal hope and faith that somehow in this crazy twist of fate, I will find the predestined someone who will share with the journey of my life. A journey towards eternal love and happiness, starting with me, towards a new beginning.
With my self-proclaimed dissuasion to engage in any intimate personal contact with complete strangers of all sort, I avoided at most any circumstance that might expose myself to the world. I eschewed all the invitations from my closest acquaintances, from coffee breaks to flirting with men. I kept my exposure to the minimum. My life evolved from hospitals, to my college, and to my house, and occasionally, to this local bar (1611) where I spend my weekends with some close friends.
When my good girl friend asked my affirmation to come to her “breather party,” I vehemently refused without any consideration for my part. It’s not that I hate socializing with people; it’s just that I have no motivation or enthusiasm to come. Added to the fact that my parents might not approve of it, particularly my mom who has the incessant enjoyment of deliberately calling my friends just to know my whereabouts. But as the day of implementation approaches, I developed the gusto to come, and eventually to leave my hermetic life and spend some quality time with the living.
Admittedly, Makati is not my crowd; I would’ve enjoyed things better if we were in Malate or at Government in particular. Greenbelt used to be that same old, same old place where eternal chitchatting and meeting artificial ostentatious people abounds like cocktails in a bar. Conversely, GB has changed since my last visit quite a few months ago. It had become a totally novel place, an alcove where candor and realism is possible, where people are breathing more or less in an honest space, in a place of sheer lucidity amidst the mist hazy with smoke of uncertainty.
I was able to meet new friends in the bar we went into (Temple). Never in my mind have I thought of myself as attractive, or likable at least, but as some men approach me and stayed with me even for a little while, I developed a positive self-regard. It’s as if I felt accepted even for some little borrowed time. A precious little stretch of time where it almost feels like it had been forever.
Then it dawned on me, I miss the feeling of being appreciated and liked, things I lacked when I broke up with my significant other. Even for such little time, I was fulfilled of that need. And it felt good. And it even took a stranger I knew nothing of to enlighten me of my lacking.
All this time, this is what I failed to notice—that I can find affirmation and hope even in the most insignificant, trivial places. There is optimism behind the blinding lights of the darkest bars. Hope flourishes even in the most desolate, barren alleys. There is truthfulness amidst the crowd teeming with people wearing masks and façades. Because as always, it is what in the inside that matters. And what is outside is not always what it seems.
As we went home, I was left contemplating with what might have happened if I didn’t come. Perhaps the party might not be as happy as it was, or it might have ended in an earlier time. Yet in my mind, I felt extremely grateful to the wonderful souls who made me believe that life is still beautiful. There is still more to life than all the bitterness and lies. That behind the darkness and hopelessness lays a streak of light radiating its luminous resplendence predestined to envelop the gloom.
Maybe it’s the spark of optimism or it’s my conscious effort that I have willingly decided to just let go. All this time, I was shrouded with the pains and regrets of my failed relationship with Marco, but through the help of my loved ones, I was able to emerge from my self-created pit of loneliness and despair. I am now moving on. And I have let go completely. And what is left in my heart is the eternal hope and faith that somehow in this crazy twist of fate, I will find the predestined someone who will share with the journey of my life. A journey towards eternal love and happiness, starting with me, towards a new beginning.
Sunday, July 24, 2005
The End of an Era.
Once upon a time, there was a young man who believed that true love would come his way. He waited for the Right One to come only to get disappointed and frustrated in the end. He gambled everything he had just to find his true happiness, only to have his heart get wounded in the way. All the optimism faded into dust. He grew restless and desperate, lonely and forgotten.
He is losing hope. But the desperation turned into delight when he finally met the man of his dreams. He is perfect, perhaps, too good to be true. In his mind, he believed that a flawless person like him would never love an insignificant person like himself. But he was wrong. The more he fell in love with him. Notwithstanding the risk of getting hurt again, he decided to entrust his heart to this wonderful man.
They lived a perfect life. They shared a love that is all consuming, all compelling, unconditional, a needy kind of love. He told himself, “I don’t know if it will last but for now, he makes me feel like I can do anything I ever dreamed.” Their love is palpable, strong and unfaltering. But never in their minds they knew that the end is yet to come.
Then suddenly, his lover left him. He was shattered into gazillion pieces. He knew he could never be whole again. Not for now, and perhaps, it never will.
But he didn’t close his heart. He kept it wide open. Eagerly anticipating for the moment their love will lead him back again.
Now he was astray, lost, forgotten. Mending a life that is entirely full of holes. Will he finally get to savor his much-deserved happiness?
The story is mine to finish.
He is losing hope. But the desperation turned into delight when he finally met the man of his dreams. He is perfect, perhaps, too good to be true. In his mind, he believed that a flawless person like him would never love an insignificant person like himself. But he was wrong. The more he fell in love with him. Notwithstanding the risk of getting hurt again, he decided to entrust his heart to this wonderful man.
They lived a perfect life. They shared a love that is all consuming, all compelling, unconditional, a needy kind of love. He told himself, “I don’t know if it will last but for now, he makes me feel like I can do anything I ever dreamed.” Their love is palpable, strong and unfaltering. But never in their minds they knew that the end is yet to come.
Then suddenly, his lover left him. He was shattered into gazillion pieces. He knew he could never be whole again. Not for now, and perhaps, it never will.
But he didn’t close his heart. He kept it wide open. Eagerly anticipating for the moment their love will lead him back again.
Now he was astray, lost, forgotten. Mending a life that is entirely full of holes. Will he finally get to savor his much-deserved happiness?
The story is mine to finish.
Tuesday, July 05, 2005
The Chronicles of Love
The following letters are my personal correspondence to my three special friends whose comments appear on the previously posted article "The Unwanted Ghosts of my Unforgotten Past."
to ree.
.
.
when i learned the fact that we both have our significant others abroad and we are fighting to keep our relationships strong, i couldn't help but feel elated with the knowledge that someone in this universe shares with my sentiments and empathizes with me sincerely and genuinely (like you do).
at first i though that my bf (in NY) is my great true love but im finding it hard sustaining a relationship with someone i am not physically together with. its as if im missing his presence—the intimacy, the passion, the oneness, the security it brings, im not quite sure. but his very presence reminds me of his pure and unconditional love. like your bf, he had remained sincere and loyal to me and to our relationship. we still communicate substantially and we have remained faithful to one another. i guess its because we are both willing to fight for our relationship that we decided to make sacrifices and to hang and hold on. and like you, distance isn’t even a question.
im very happy with where your relationship is going. i hope that through our consensual efforts, we can be like you—strong, steadfast, dedicated. marco is strong and i know that we will make it as long as our love is able.
and as i always say, i will wait for him forever… as the sun stood still.
.
to hashi.
.
.
Thanks my dear friend visiting my precious little site. =)
I personally commend you my friend for the 11 months you wholeheartedly spent with your LD-significant other. In all fairness, that was long compared to my month-long ramblings and whimpering on whether I should pursue my relationship with Marco or not. In all honesty, I have no problems with LD relationships, and as I have said in my chronicles, I am very much willing to give it a try. But the thing I fear most is the lack of reassurance. Its not that I worry whether he will stay loyal with me, or I to him, it’s the outcome that I fear of. I’m afraid of the unknown, of the future, or where our relationship is heading. It’s just complicated… and fearful in my part.
I don’t want to simply end the relationship I nurtured and cultivated from the very beginning. I really, really love my Marco. And I am willing to sacrifice more. It’s hard for me living a life that is away from him physically. He had showered me with so much love when he was still here, and I became dependent on that love and belongingness. As Maslow said, I couldn’t have reached my full potential without him fulfilling my love, security, safety and belongingness needs. He had became a part of my life. And as crazy as it may sound, I felt extremely estranged even with myself with his leaving.
I hope I can be whole again. I’m fighting hashi. I’m still fighting.
.
to bernadette.
.
.
Thanks Bernadette. I feel happy with the fact that you are always present to support me and love me and empathize with me no matter how unpredictable, crazy, and messy my life have become. =)
I couldn’t help but agree with you my friend. It’s my first long-distance relationship ever that’s why I’m apprehensive and worried and afraid of everything that comes along with it. When I think of the many people who are looking for love, I couldn’t help but feel more happy and contented with my (past and present) relationship with Marco. And when I feel lonely and alone, a simple though of him or a short conversation with him is like a balm to the hurt. And suddenly it’s not that bad at all.
In love, there has to be sacrifices we have to endure. His leaving had become the hardest one yet, so is maintaining this LD relationship. I have psychologically prepared myself for this kind of test, and my mind had conditioned my heart to feel ready and primed for this emotional ride. But I was wrong. The more I became weak and unprepared. When he left, I was shattered into pieces. Only Marco can make me complete and whole again. But his leaving never broke my spirit. And it is telling me to fight for this relationship as long as my mind and heart can.
At present, I don’t have any plans of going to NY to be with him yet. Only time can tell. And fate. But I’m not altogether hopeless and forlorn. I have all the love in the world to give. And that belongs to my TRUE SIGNIFICANT OTHER in New York.
PS. Thanks for the unending support. Your words of advice had fueled my life with the precious warmth I needed to survive. I am very much indebted. I am indebted.
to ree.
.
.
when i learned the fact that we both have our significant others abroad and we are fighting to keep our relationships strong, i couldn't help but feel elated with the knowledge that someone in this universe shares with my sentiments and empathizes with me sincerely and genuinely (like you do).
at first i though that my bf (in NY) is my great true love but im finding it hard sustaining a relationship with someone i am not physically together with. its as if im missing his presence—the intimacy, the passion, the oneness, the security it brings, im not quite sure. but his very presence reminds me of his pure and unconditional love. like your bf, he had remained sincere and loyal to me and to our relationship. we still communicate substantially and we have remained faithful to one another. i guess its because we are both willing to fight for our relationship that we decided to make sacrifices and to hang and hold on. and like you, distance isn’t even a question.
im very happy with where your relationship is going. i hope that through our consensual efforts, we can be like you—strong, steadfast, dedicated. marco is strong and i know that we will make it as long as our love is able.
and as i always say, i will wait for him forever… as the sun stood still.
.
to hashi.
.
.
Thanks my dear friend visiting my precious little site. =)
I personally commend you my friend for the 11 months you wholeheartedly spent with your LD-significant other. In all fairness, that was long compared to my month-long ramblings and whimpering on whether I should pursue my relationship with Marco or not. In all honesty, I have no problems with LD relationships, and as I have said in my chronicles, I am very much willing to give it a try. But the thing I fear most is the lack of reassurance. Its not that I worry whether he will stay loyal with me, or I to him, it’s the outcome that I fear of. I’m afraid of the unknown, of the future, or where our relationship is heading. It’s just complicated… and fearful in my part.
I don’t want to simply end the relationship I nurtured and cultivated from the very beginning. I really, really love my Marco. And I am willing to sacrifice more. It’s hard for me living a life that is away from him physically. He had showered me with so much love when he was still here, and I became dependent on that love and belongingness. As Maslow said, I couldn’t have reached my full potential without him fulfilling my love, security, safety and belongingness needs. He had became a part of my life. And as crazy as it may sound, I felt extremely estranged even with myself with his leaving.
I hope I can be whole again. I’m fighting hashi. I’m still fighting.
.
to bernadette.
.
.
Thanks Bernadette. I feel happy with the fact that you are always present to support me and love me and empathize with me no matter how unpredictable, crazy, and messy my life have become. =)
I couldn’t help but agree with you my friend. It’s my first long-distance relationship ever that’s why I’m apprehensive and worried and afraid of everything that comes along with it. When I think of the many people who are looking for love, I couldn’t help but feel more happy and contented with my (past and present) relationship with Marco. And when I feel lonely and alone, a simple though of him or a short conversation with him is like a balm to the hurt. And suddenly it’s not that bad at all.
In love, there has to be sacrifices we have to endure. His leaving had become the hardest one yet, so is maintaining this LD relationship. I have psychologically prepared myself for this kind of test, and my mind had conditioned my heart to feel ready and primed for this emotional ride. But I was wrong. The more I became weak and unprepared. When he left, I was shattered into pieces. Only Marco can make me complete and whole again. But his leaving never broke my spirit. And it is telling me to fight for this relationship as long as my mind and heart can.
At present, I don’t have any plans of going to NY to be with him yet. Only time can tell. And fate. But I’m not altogether hopeless and forlorn. I have all the love in the world to give. And that belongs to my TRUE SIGNIFICANT OTHER in New York.
PS. Thanks for the unending support. Your words of advice had fueled my life with the precious warmth I needed to survive. I am very much indebted. I am indebted.
Friday, June 17, 2005
The Unwanted Ghosts of my Unforgotten Past
The beginning of the rainy season brings to mind many a vivid memories of my past, including those that are consciously forgotten and those that are subconsciously repressed. I have adored the rain for its great power of cleansing and healing all the physical and emotional scars that bear witness to my failures as a person and as a lover. The changing of the seasons signifies the indefatigable cycle of life, growth, development and metamorphosis — with the inevitable fact that it is certain and unavoidable. It is a test of humility, acceptance and endurance—and it is up to us to discover that it is in change that we realize our fuller potentials as individuals.
It had been days since my boyfriend Marco had left me. Though we did not necessarily lost contact with each other, he had called me a couple of times (on our 7th monthsary and at my 19th birthday [NY time]); and for me the simple reassuring words of “I Love You,” and “Let’s Fight for this Relationship,” is like a balm to the hurt.
I opened up with my closest friends. There’s nothing to be ashamed of in this relationship I tend on keeping. I’m even more proud of myself with the fact that I was able to gather more strength to fuel the warmth of our relationship.
Some of my friends have said to forget about it. Few of them said to fight for it. Most people are against long distance relationships and I wonder about that. This is a first experience for me that's why I’m all optimistic about it. But I believe that relationships are valuable, are hard to find, so when and if you find the one that seems perfect for you why not pursue it. Get through the obstacles cause in the end its the relationship that's going to make you happy and everything else wouldn't matter.
There are some sacrifices/compromises that can be made to make it work; it just depends on the strength of the relationship. And I’m very much willing to make one.
One of my close friends texted me and asked me about the complexity our relationship is experiencing. I told her that we are in an “Open-Dating” set-up—meaning, we can date new men as long as we like, on the condition that we must inform each other of our personal decisions. It is typical of some homosexual relationships—more on like “I’ve found a new lover, kindly let go of me”-type and “Be happy for me and thanks for the love”-type. My friend couldn’t help but feel more and more confused. We started a text debacle and ended up with her advice of:
“Let go of him R***. It only means to say that there’s someone better waiting for you =). I’ll always be praying for your happiness.”
I’m left with the ambivalent feeling of relief and confusion. Is she right? Is it much better for me to move on and let go of him? Or should I fight for this relationship with all of my strength?
I’m left with a thousand puzzling questions unanswerable even by the most intelligent man on this planet.
One thing I just learned, I longed for my much-needed closure with my significant other.
But another thing I just learned, closure isn't something that you're always given...
A friend suggested that I should disregard and burn all the things that remind me of him. But I know it isn’t possible. Marco’s presence is everywhere in my life… He is in the watch I wear everyday in school. He is in my clothes that I wore during our dates and rendezvous. He is in the scent of the perfume that we bought together. He is in my mind, my thoughts, and my consciousness. How could I possible let go of someone who have fueled my life and made meaning to my existence?
Then I had a thought, he is a part of my life and will forever be. But had he become the ghost that I feared and dreaded when he left me here alone?
A sage once said that we must confront our own ghost, acknowledge its presence, then release it. In my life, I am definitely haunted by the ghosts of my relationships past. Old lovers, ex-boyfriends, anyone I had unresolved issues with I am bound to run into again and again until I fully resolve them. My relationship with Marco was dead for quite some time but as I go on with my personal life, he had inevitably become a presence in my life for good. And he had been there all along. Like the scent, the gifts, the memories I could never bring myself to forgot.
“When a relationship dies, do we ever really give up the ghost? Or are we forever haunted by the spirits of the relationship past?”
Just last week, I accidentally bumped into my ex-boyfriend in a mall at Makati. He confronted me and told me harsh, hurtful words that struck my heart like daggers. His messages reverberate indifference and coldness but his actions told otherwise.
Though I’ve become hurt and wounded when our relationship failed, I can feel that he was still suffering from the pains he incurred when our relationship died. His anger and disappointment is palpable. I can feel that he’s still fighting to hold on to me as long as his capacities can. My mind told me to forget everything about him, but my heart is telling me to give him another chance. We didn’t have a proper break-up. The hurtful messages are unintentional, I believe. I had forgiven him. And he had forgiven me too.
I can’t understand myself. My heart tells me to fight for my relationship with Marco but the sudden presence of my ex-BFs suggests my heart to have some serious considerations. I’m back to the ride in my emotional rollercoaster again. The messages my ex-BF is sending me at present shook my heart for reconsideration, but can I wholeheartedly let go of the man who makes my heart beat anyway?
.
.
I had confronted my ghost. I had accepted and released him. But now I was more haunted than ever. Because what I felt all along was no ghost… it was real.
It had been days since my boyfriend Marco had left me. Though we did not necessarily lost contact with each other, he had called me a couple of times (on our 7th monthsary and at my 19th birthday [NY time]); and for me the simple reassuring words of “I Love You,” and “Let’s Fight for this Relationship,” is like a balm to the hurt.
I opened up with my closest friends. There’s nothing to be ashamed of in this relationship I tend on keeping. I’m even more proud of myself with the fact that I was able to gather more strength to fuel the warmth of our relationship.
Some of my friends have said to forget about it. Few of them said to fight for it. Most people are against long distance relationships and I wonder about that. This is a first experience for me that's why I’m all optimistic about it. But I believe that relationships are valuable, are hard to find, so when and if you find the one that seems perfect for you why not pursue it. Get through the obstacles cause in the end its the relationship that's going to make you happy and everything else wouldn't matter.
There are some sacrifices/compromises that can be made to make it work; it just depends on the strength of the relationship. And I’m very much willing to make one.
One of my close friends texted me and asked me about the complexity our relationship is experiencing. I told her that we are in an “Open-Dating” set-up—meaning, we can date new men as long as we like, on the condition that we must inform each other of our personal decisions. It is typical of some homosexual relationships—more on like “I’ve found a new lover, kindly let go of me”-type and “Be happy for me and thanks for the love”-type. My friend couldn’t help but feel more and more confused. We started a text debacle and ended up with her advice of:
“Let go of him R***. It only means to say that there’s someone better waiting for you =). I’ll always be praying for your happiness.”
I’m left with the ambivalent feeling of relief and confusion. Is she right? Is it much better for me to move on and let go of him? Or should I fight for this relationship with all of my strength?
I’m left with a thousand puzzling questions unanswerable even by the most intelligent man on this planet.
One thing I just learned, I longed for my much-needed closure with my significant other.
But another thing I just learned, closure isn't something that you're always given...
A friend suggested that I should disregard and burn all the things that remind me of him. But I know it isn’t possible. Marco’s presence is everywhere in my life… He is in the watch I wear everyday in school. He is in my clothes that I wore during our dates and rendezvous. He is in the scent of the perfume that we bought together. He is in my mind, my thoughts, and my consciousness. How could I possible let go of someone who have fueled my life and made meaning to my existence?
Then I had a thought, he is a part of my life and will forever be. But had he become the ghost that I feared and dreaded when he left me here alone?
A sage once said that we must confront our own ghost, acknowledge its presence, then release it. In my life, I am definitely haunted by the ghosts of my relationships past. Old lovers, ex-boyfriends, anyone I had unresolved issues with I am bound to run into again and again until I fully resolve them. My relationship with Marco was dead for quite some time but as I go on with my personal life, he had inevitably become a presence in my life for good. And he had been there all along. Like the scent, the gifts, the memories I could never bring myself to forgot.
“When a relationship dies, do we ever really give up the ghost? Or are we forever haunted by the spirits of the relationship past?”
Just last week, I accidentally bumped into my ex-boyfriend in a mall at Makati. He confronted me and told me harsh, hurtful words that struck my heart like daggers. His messages reverberate indifference and coldness but his actions told otherwise.
Though I’ve become hurt and wounded when our relationship failed, I can feel that he was still suffering from the pains he incurred when our relationship died. His anger and disappointment is palpable. I can feel that he’s still fighting to hold on to me as long as his capacities can. My mind told me to forget everything about him, but my heart is telling me to give him another chance. We didn’t have a proper break-up. The hurtful messages are unintentional, I believe. I had forgiven him. And he had forgiven me too.
I can’t understand myself. My heart tells me to fight for my relationship with Marco but the sudden presence of my ex-BFs suggests my heart to have some serious considerations. I’m back to the ride in my emotional rollercoaster again. The messages my ex-BF is sending me at present shook my heart for reconsideration, but can I wholeheartedly let go of the man who makes my heart beat anyway?
.
.
I had confronted my ghost. I had accepted and released him. But now I was more haunted than ever. Because what I felt all along was no ghost… it was real.
Tuesday, June 14, 2005
"Last Night I Heard the Screaming..."
I was browsing the Sunday paper off our porch when I came upon this article with the same title as above written by the superb writer/advocate Bum Tenorio Jr. As I conscientiously read the article, I was surprised to find out that it dealt about domestic violence present among homosexual couples. I was immediately engrossed and enthralled, not only because of my affirmative interest about the topic, but because I (probably) had become a victim of one in my past.
To quote from Bum Tenorio’s article:
“Not many are in the know—or perhaps they are just unmindful and insensitive or simply oblivious—to the fact that domestic violence is NOT just a crime affecting heterosexual couples. The structure and dynamics of homosexual couples are ALSO SIMILAR to the abuses that take place in heterosexual relationship. After all, VIOLENCE IS NOT JUST ABOUT ANGER. It’s about POWER and CONTROL.
“Unlike women, however, who can report cases of domestic abuse to many a women center all over the country, gay and lesbian victims in the Philippines normally do not seek help not because they are ashamed of their plight but because they think there isn’t any help available to them. More often than not, gay people lodge their complaints in the barangay. Many times, the buck stops there.
.
.
“Homophobia truly compounds the problems faced by gay and lesbian victims of domestic violence. The rest of the society may not admit it but I still believe that homophobia — the society’s fear and hatred towards gay and leasbians — is a contributory factor to the difficulties and complexities faced by battered homosexuals. Though there is much tolerance now, the persistent and palpable societal homophobia leads to isolation of the victims, therefore contributing to the violence they undergo.
.
.
“It is always, always unjust and unwarranted to hear heterosexuals saying that a gay couple’s main function for coupling is because of SEX. Look closely here, the configuration of gay and lesbian relationship mirrors that of their male-female counterparts. Unions between two gays or lesbians stream from far more than the desire to have a steady copulating partner. LIKE THE HETEROSEXUALS’ SEARCH FOR A LOVER, HOMOSEXUALS ALSO LOOK FOR LOVE AND LOYALTY, DEVOTION AND DEDICATION, FRIENDSHIP AND FIDELITY, COMMITMENT AND COMPANIONSHIP IN THEIR PARTNER. The many parallels and similarities between a man-woman relationship and man-man or woman-woman relationship make homosexual domestic violence equally alarming as that of the heterosexual’s… Only, there are no 24-hour crisis hotlines or emergency shelters that solely cater to domestic violence in same-sex affair.”
Its extremely gratifying to realize that there are people who still speak out for the oppressed, the exploited and the voiceless in the society. I have personally heard some first-hand accounts on domestic violence among my homosexual friends and it is even widely depicted on our television screens (think Six Feet Under and Nip/Tuck). Why does our homophobic society still thinks of homosexual relationships as subhuman? Is this the impression they want to imprint on the minds and hearts of our youth? That relationships involving same-sex couples are dehumanizing, irrational and absurd?
Lately I’ve got to thinking that domestic violence among homosexual and heterosexual partners does not only involve physical assault or battery, but mostly of the emotional repercussions of every act of violence. The pain of a hurtful blow might subside after weeks but wounding words is even more painful, agonizing, and unbearable for one. Every hurtful word said is an act of violence in itself. No matter how subtle the hurt is, damages will still be done either knowingly or unknowingly inferred.
And then I realized how I had been a victim of one. Like many homosexual people in a relationship, we all had experienced the pain and the hurts of domestic violence in the emotional aspect. Hurtful words are said, so are the consequences and the repercussions. Time might heal all of the corporeal wounds, but the emotional ramifications are much more deafening. And no amount of balm can successfully cure the wounds.
We all had been to several hardships in our relationships, and whether they survived or failed, enduring all the pains is an inevitable reality. Like Agent Clarice Starling in the Silence of the Lambs, we all woke up in the middle of the night to hear the screaming of the lambs, our personal pains, our burdens, our fears, and all we can do is ask:
When will the screaming ever stop?
PS. Kudos to Mr. Bum Tenorio Jr. for his article entitled “Last Night I Heard the Screaming.” I’m encouraging everyone to obtain a copy of June 12, 2005’s edition of The Philippine Star where the original article is published.
To quote from Bum Tenorio’s article:
“Not many are in the know—or perhaps they are just unmindful and insensitive or simply oblivious—to the fact that domestic violence is NOT just a crime affecting heterosexual couples. The structure and dynamics of homosexual couples are ALSO SIMILAR to the abuses that take place in heterosexual relationship. After all, VIOLENCE IS NOT JUST ABOUT ANGER. It’s about POWER and CONTROL.
“Unlike women, however, who can report cases of domestic abuse to many a women center all over the country, gay and lesbian victims in the Philippines normally do not seek help not because they are ashamed of their plight but because they think there isn’t any help available to them. More often than not, gay people lodge their complaints in the barangay. Many times, the buck stops there.
.
.
“Homophobia truly compounds the problems faced by gay and lesbian victims of domestic violence. The rest of the society may not admit it but I still believe that homophobia — the society’s fear and hatred towards gay and leasbians — is a contributory factor to the difficulties and complexities faced by battered homosexuals. Though there is much tolerance now, the persistent and palpable societal homophobia leads to isolation of the victims, therefore contributing to the violence they undergo.
.
.
“It is always, always unjust and unwarranted to hear heterosexuals saying that a gay couple’s main function for coupling is because of SEX. Look closely here, the configuration of gay and lesbian relationship mirrors that of their male-female counterparts. Unions between two gays or lesbians stream from far more than the desire to have a steady copulating partner. LIKE THE HETEROSEXUALS’ SEARCH FOR A LOVER, HOMOSEXUALS ALSO LOOK FOR LOVE AND LOYALTY, DEVOTION AND DEDICATION, FRIENDSHIP AND FIDELITY, COMMITMENT AND COMPANIONSHIP IN THEIR PARTNER. The many parallels and similarities between a man-woman relationship and man-man or woman-woman relationship make homosexual domestic violence equally alarming as that of the heterosexual’s… Only, there are no 24-hour crisis hotlines or emergency shelters that solely cater to domestic violence in same-sex affair.”
Its extremely gratifying to realize that there are people who still speak out for the oppressed, the exploited and the voiceless in the society. I have personally heard some first-hand accounts on domestic violence among my homosexual friends and it is even widely depicted on our television screens (think Six Feet Under and Nip/Tuck). Why does our homophobic society still thinks of homosexual relationships as subhuman? Is this the impression they want to imprint on the minds and hearts of our youth? That relationships involving same-sex couples are dehumanizing, irrational and absurd?
Lately I’ve got to thinking that domestic violence among homosexual and heterosexual partners does not only involve physical assault or battery, but mostly of the emotional repercussions of every act of violence. The pain of a hurtful blow might subside after weeks but wounding words is even more painful, agonizing, and unbearable for one. Every hurtful word said is an act of violence in itself. No matter how subtle the hurt is, damages will still be done either knowingly or unknowingly inferred.
And then I realized how I had been a victim of one. Like many homosexual people in a relationship, we all had experienced the pain and the hurts of domestic violence in the emotional aspect. Hurtful words are said, so are the consequences and the repercussions. Time might heal all of the corporeal wounds, but the emotional ramifications are much more deafening. And no amount of balm can successfully cure the wounds.
We all had been to several hardships in our relationships, and whether they survived or failed, enduring all the pains is an inevitable reality. Like Agent Clarice Starling in the Silence of the Lambs, we all woke up in the middle of the night to hear the screaming of the lambs, our personal pains, our burdens, our fears, and all we can do is ask:
When will the screaming ever stop?
PS. Kudos to Mr. Bum Tenorio Jr. for his article entitled “Last Night I Heard the Screaming.” I’m encouraging everyone to obtain a copy of June 12, 2005’s edition of The Philippine Star where the original article is published.
Thursday, June 09, 2005
A Glimpse of Paradise
I was awaken with the incessant toot-toot-ing of my cell phone, not my alarm clock, with the soft plopping of raindrops falling under the sky and dropping into our roof. I was so pre-occupied with my Marco-obsessions, my ex-boyfriend’s hate messages (which he texted me just last evening), and my compulsion to finish the last chapters of Angels & Demons, that I almost completely forgotten my OWN BIRTHDAY!!! Thank Heavens, a lot of people in my inbox genuinely reminded me of what I was just naïvely missing.
YES, IT’S MY BIRTHDAY TODAY. I’M OFFICIALLY 19.
I turned on the television and despicably saw Reuben Studdard singing the “Don’t You Remember You Told Me You Love Me Baby”-song in the Oprah Winfrey Show. Appalled and dismayed, I turned the dial to contemptibly see Nina in MTV singing “I Don’t Wanna Be Your Friend.” Completely aghast, I shifted to ETC to see the host of The Today Show cooking fricassee. Thank God there are still channels on earth not reminding me of all my love tragedies. I immediately felt relieved. You have no idea. This is my special day! I deserve to be happy. I don’t need Reuben and Nina and the likes telling me such bullshits on love! I’m implementing egotism today. Not my boyfriend sentiments nor my ex-boyfriends whining can change my frame of mind. THIS IS MY DAY!!
I got to thinking of my very best friend (yihee) Demiguin who I’ve just met yesterday and her fabulous gift I proudly displayed here in my room. It is a fabulous graffiti shirt with the inspiring message: “IF YOU THINK SEX IS A PAIN IN THE ASS, YOU’RE DOING IT WRONG!” This is the most memorable gift I’ve received yet from a very very good friend. After our lunch yesterday, we went to iko lai’s pod and watch the provocative breakthrough film Y Tu Mama Tambien to the realization that friendship, like life, transforms and evolves and breaks barriers and conventions, and ultimately endures despite all the pains, the sorrows, and all the betrayals.
Suddenly it dawned on me. I’M IN DESPERATE NEED OF CLOSURE.
According to my most loved author May Luna Sy, “Closure began as a clinical term used by mental health professionals to define a stage in traumatic grief where one is able to reinvest in life, where living is not to be endured, but cherished.
“Closure is being able to put an end to something. For example, you stop pining for the guy who got away. You stop thinking about what might have been. You stop blaming yourself for making the wrong decision or worse, for not making a decision.
“But before you achieve closure, you have to go through a lot of grief, pain, confusion, gallons of ice cream or even a handful of lovers.”
Then I realize that I haven’t had closure with all of my past boyfriends. Some of them still have the grudges and the bitterness towards me. This fact makes me uneasy and perturbed. I couldn’t stand the reality that somewhere in the universe, someone close or who used to be close to my heart is still suffering from the remnants of our failed relationship. While I’m sincerely happy at present, I can’t help but commiserate with their sympathy. Sometimes, loving is about letting go sans all the loathing and repugnance. There are still times when my heart still aches because I’ve never let go completely but I know that I’ve done my fair share. I’m sincerely hoping they will… too.
But now I have a choice. This is my DAY. I could drown myself with the infinite ramblings of all of the mistakes and imperfections of all of my past relationships or I can give myself my much-needed closure as my birthday present. I’ll choose the latter. I have spent my entire life living with the joys, pains and heartaches of all of my failed relationships. Today, I am giving myself the rest I so badly needed. This ain’t too much to ask. I am just giving my heart a break. This will be the time to pause and smell the roses. And hopefully, the sun will soon shine.
The rain still shows its fury but it is still a beautiful world. I have my very loving family, my extremely fabulous friends, my loving boyfriend in NY, and all of the wonderful people I have met in my lifetime. What else could I possibly ask for more? I have had my much-longed peace of mind—and this is my glimpse of paradise.
YES, IT’S MY BIRTHDAY TODAY. I’M OFFICIALLY 19.
I turned on the television and despicably saw Reuben Studdard singing the “Don’t You Remember You Told Me You Love Me Baby”-song in the Oprah Winfrey Show. Appalled and dismayed, I turned the dial to contemptibly see Nina in MTV singing “I Don’t Wanna Be Your Friend.” Completely aghast, I shifted to ETC to see the host of The Today Show cooking fricassee. Thank God there are still channels on earth not reminding me of all my love tragedies. I immediately felt relieved. You have no idea. This is my special day! I deserve to be happy. I don’t need Reuben and Nina and the likes telling me such bullshits on love! I’m implementing egotism today. Not my boyfriend sentiments nor my ex-boyfriends whining can change my frame of mind. THIS IS MY DAY!!
I got to thinking of my very best friend (yihee) Demiguin who I’ve just met yesterday and her fabulous gift I proudly displayed here in my room. It is a fabulous graffiti shirt with the inspiring message: “IF YOU THINK SEX IS A PAIN IN THE ASS, YOU’RE DOING IT WRONG!” This is the most memorable gift I’ve received yet from a very very good friend. After our lunch yesterday, we went to iko lai’s pod and watch the provocative breakthrough film Y Tu Mama Tambien to the realization that friendship, like life, transforms and evolves and breaks barriers and conventions, and ultimately endures despite all the pains, the sorrows, and all the betrayals.
Suddenly it dawned on me. I’M IN DESPERATE NEED OF CLOSURE.
According to my most loved author May Luna Sy, “Closure began as a clinical term used by mental health professionals to define a stage in traumatic grief where one is able to reinvest in life, where living is not to be endured, but cherished.
“Closure is being able to put an end to something. For example, you stop pining for the guy who got away. You stop thinking about what might have been. You stop blaming yourself for making the wrong decision or worse, for not making a decision.
“But before you achieve closure, you have to go through a lot of grief, pain, confusion, gallons of ice cream or even a handful of lovers.”
Then I realize that I haven’t had closure with all of my past boyfriends. Some of them still have the grudges and the bitterness towards me. This fact makes me uneasy and perturbed. I couldn’t stand the reality that somewhere in the universe, someone close or who used to be close to my heart is still suffering from the remnants of our failed relationship. While I’m sincerely happy at present, I can’t help but commiserate with their sympathy. Sometimes, loving is about letting go sans all the loathing and repugnance. There are still times when my heart still aches because I’ve never let go completely but I know that I’ve done my fair share. I’m sincerely hoping they will… too.
But now I have a choice. This is my DAY. I could drown myself with the infinite ramblings of all of the mistakes and imperfections of all of my past relationships or I can give myself my much-needed closure as my birthday present. I’ll choose the latter. I have spent my entire life living with the joys, pains and heartaches of all of my failed relationships. Today, I am giving myself the rest I so badly needed. This ain’t too much to ask. I am just giving my heart a break. This will be the time to pause and smell the roses. And hopefully, the sun will soon shine.
The rain still shows its fury but it is still a beautiful world. I have my very loving family, my extremely fabulous friends, my loving boyfriend in NY, and all of the wonderful people I have met in my lifetime. What else could I possibly ask for more? I have had my much-longed peace of mind—and this is my glimpse of paradise.
Monday, June 06, 2005
As The Sun Stood Still
The most painful thing a person involved in a relationship cannot possibly endure is the scene where you have to watch your Significant Other (S.O.) walk past you and leave you alone, and you have no choice but to let go of your S.O. wholeheartedly and unconditionally.
Oh Lord… why me?
It is official. My boyfriend had left the country as of Sunday (5th of June). He had left me… alone, shattered, desolate and devastated. There are absolutely no words that can describe what I’m feeling at present. God I feel so alone. The loneliness within me is palpable. I’m so broken.
Marco had been my boyfriend for seven months now. He had been my strength, my happiness, my world, my life and my soul. My whole life revolved around him. He showed me how to love unconditionally and how to be strong despite the obstacles the world is throwing us. He loved me unreservedly. I loved him so much. And I still do.
All these times, I believed that he was my soul mate, an idea that I did not patronize at first. But Marco made me believe that the random circumstance of acquaintance that made us one and together is pre-destined, written in the stars. But as stars exists, I never knew that the flame, no matter how strong, can be instantaneously extinguished in short span of time.
I found it extremely paradoxical that his date of flight landed one day short of our monthsary. It is the 6th of November when we officially become life-partners. And it is 5th of June that he left me. Is it a premonition that our relationship might not make any future progress? Is it just a random chance of circumstance? Is it a sign telling me to just move on and let go? Or to hold on and fight for this relationship as far as my faculties can reach?
In all of my past relationships, I had been tested just the same. People came into my life. They became my life. And they go. They leave me, with the fact that unknowingly, they take a part of me with their leaving. I’m left incomplete. And I will never be whole again. Relationships are investments. You gain some, yet you lose everything. And no matter how you try to gain them back again, things will never be the same. You will never be the same.
If there’s one consolation that my relationship with Marco had made me happy despite all of my pains, it is the fact that he loved me unconditionally in the face of my imperfections. FROM THE VERY BEGINNING, I FELT LOVED, RESPECTED AND CHERISHED. It is completely fortunate for an imperfect person like me to be loved by a perfect person like him. Despite my failures, he accepted me wholeheartedly; he treats me with regard and importance; HE INSPIRED ME TO LOVE MORE, TO GIVE MORE, TO TRUST MORE; he taught me how to trust unconditionally. He is my friend, my lover, my heart and my soul. He is, and will forever be THE GREATEST PERSON I LOVED with all of my heart, my mind, and my soul. And as cliché as it may sound, in my existence, I know I will never, ever love this way again.
Yesterday, after our final night together, we spent our last brunch at Intercon prior to their flight at NAIA. The luggages were prepared beforehand, and we were at the airport as early as 2:30pm. We had our final snacks and the next minutes of my life seemed like forever. The rain fell as if the heavens is sharing my grief and sorrow. I cannot help but cry. I definitely cannot fight my emotions anymore. I am human. I am weak. Yet Marco remained strong all throughout these days. He had been the epitome of real strength. He cannot afford to be weak. Else, I will feel more vulnerable before I crumble and break down. It is one of the things I admired about him—he is steadfast, unfaltering, and strong. And I still remained as the usual weakling—fragile, feeble, breakable.
But his steadfast strength made me realize that I can become stronger than what I had been. HE MADE ME BELIEVE THAT I CAN DO THINGS AS LONG AS LOVE IS ABLE. As long as I place my unwavering trust in our relationship, I know I can do better. And despite the distance barriers, I know that there is still one person on this universe who will still love and respect me unconditionally—and that person will always be my MARCO.
As I look back, Sex and the City’s ™ Carrie’s words reverberates in my brain;
“I got to thinking about FATE. That crazy concept that we are not responsible for the course of our life takes, that is all predestined, written in the STARS. Maybe that explains why, if you live in the city where you can’t even see the stars, your love life tends to feel a little more RANDOM. Even if our every man, every kiss, every heartache is preordered from some cosmic catalog, can we still make the wrong step and wander off our own personal milky WAY? I couldn’t help but wonder, CAN YOU MAKE A MISTAKE AND MISS YOUR FATE?
“Maybe our mistakes are what shape our fate. If we veered into a different direction, it may lead us back. After all, seasons change; years come and go, but the ones you love, stays in your HEART.”
Perhaps it is fate, or it is our choices in life, or it is God’s will that shapes our existence in this universe. There are still times when my heart aches, longing for my Marco, needing his presence, but in my heart I know I will be fine. There are storms people can’t simply avoid. The winds are strong but our love is stronger. As I look outside my window and savor the raindrops and the rays of the sun, I will forever remember my Marco. We will make it. I know we will.
As the snow falls on Marco’s cheeks along the crowded streets of New York, I know that our love will forever keep us warm. Our love is stronger than the blazing hearth, it is inextinguishable, it is forever, endless, infinite. The snow and the storm might not stop at least for the moment, but the eternal sun is just standing by… waiting for its rightly return.
And I will wait for him… as the sun stood still.
PS. We are in deep gratitude to all of you for all the prayers and the kindest words of support and encouragement. We will be fine. We appreciate the sympathy and your sincerest kindness. We are forever indebted.
Oh Lord… why me?
It is official. My boyfriend had left the country as of Sunday (5th of June). He had left me… alone, shattered, desolate and devastated. There are absolutely no words that can describe what I’m feeling at present. God I feel so alone. The loneliness within me is palpable. I’m so broken.
Marco had been my boyfriend for seven months now. He had been my strength, my happiness, my world, my life and my soul. My whole life revolved around him. He showed me how to love unconditionally and how to be strong despite the obstacles the world is throwing us. He loved me unreservedly. I loved him so much. And I still do.
All these times, I believed that he was my soul mate, an idea that I did not patronize at first. But Marco made me believe that the random circumstance of acquaintance that made us one and together is pre-destined, written in the stars. But as stars exists, I never knew that the flame, no matter how strong, can be instantaneously extinguished in short span of time.
I found it extremely paradoxical that his date of flight landed one day short of our monthsary. It is the 6th of November when we officially become life-partners. And it is 5th of June that he left me. Is it a premonition that our relationship might not make any future progress? Is it just a random chance of circumstance? Is it a sign telling me to just move on and let go? Or to hold on and fight for this relationship as far as my faculties can reach?
In all of my past relationships, I had been tested just the same. People came into my life. They became my life. And they go. They leave me, with the fact that unknowingly, they take a part of me with their leaving. I’m left incomplete. And I will never be whole again. Relationships are investments. You gain some, yet you lose everything. And no matter how you try to gain them back again, things will never be the same. You will never be the same.
If there’s one consolation that my relationship with Marco had made me happy despite all of my pains, it is the fact that he loved me unconditionally in the face of my imperfections. FROM THE VERY BEGINNING, I FELT LOVED, RESPECTED AND CHERISHED. It is completely fortunate for an imperfect person like me to be loved by a perfect person like him. Despite my failures, he accepted me wholeheartedly; he treats me with regard and importance; HE INSPIRED ME TO LOVE MORE, TO GIVE MORE, TO TRUST MORE; he taught me how to trust unconditionally. He is my friend, my lover, my heart and my soul. He is, and will forever be THE GREATEST PERSON I LOVED with all of my heart, my mind, and my soul. And as cliché as it may sound, in my existence, I know I will never, ever love this way again.
Yesterday, after our final night together, we spent our last brunch at Intercon prior to their flight at NAIA. The luggages were prepared beforehand, and we were at the airport as early as 2:30pm. We had our final snacks and the next minutes of my life seemed like forever. The rain fell as if the heavens is sharing my grief and sorrow. I cannot help but cry. I definitely cannot fight my emotions anymore. I am human. I am weak. Yet Marco remained strong all throughout these days. He had been the epitome of real strength. He cannot afford to be weak. Else, I will feel more vulnerable before I crumble and break down. It is one of the things I admired about him—he is steadfast, unfaltering, and strong. And I still remained as the usual weakling—fragile, feeble, breakable.
But his steadfast strength made me realize that I can become stronger than what I had been. HE MADE ME BELIEVE THAT I CAN DO THINGS AS LONG AS LOVE IS ABLE. As long as I place my unwavering trust in our relationship, I know I can do better. And despite the distance barriers, I know that there is still one person on this universe who will still love and respect me unconditionally—and that person will always be my MARCO.
As I look back, Sex and the City’s ™ Carrie’s words reverberates in my brain;
“I got to thinking about FATE. That crazy concept that we are not responsible for the course of our life takes, that is all predestined, written in the STARS. Maybe that explains why, if you live in the city where you can’t even see the stars, your love life tends to feel a little more RANDOM. Even if our every man, every kiss, every heartache is preordered from some cosmic catalog, can we still make the wrong step and wander off our own personal milky WAY? I couldn’t help but wonder, CAN YOU MAKE A MISTAKE AND MISS YOUR FATE?
“Maybe our mistakes are what shape our fate. If we veered into a different direction, it may lead us back. After all, seasons change; years come and go, but the ones you love, stays in your HEART.”
Perhaps it is fate, or it is our choices in life, or it is God’s will that shapes our existence in this universe. There are still times when my heart aches, longing for my Marco, needing his presence, but in my heart I know I will be fine. There are storms people can’t simply avoid. The winds are strong but our love is stronger. As I look outside my window and savor the raindrops and the rays of the sun, I will forever remember my Marco. We will make it. I know we will.
As the snow falls on Marco’s cheeks along the crowded streets of New York, I know that our love will forever keep us warm. Our love is stronger than the blazing hearth, it is inextinguishable, it is forever, endless, infinite. The snow and the storm might not stop at least for the moment, but the eternal sun is just standing by… waiting for its rightly return.
And I will wait for him… as the sun stood still.
PS. We are in deep gratitude to all of you for all the prayers and the kindest words of support and encouragement. We will be fine. We appreciate the sympathy and your sincerest kindness. We are forever indebted.
Sunday, June 05, 2005
The End of the Storm
Despite the utmost comfort sleeping beside my boyfriend in this personal suite in Hotel Intercontinental (Makati) in a 200-count Egyptian cotton sheets, I was awaken with this extremely vague feeling of apprehending doom. I was shaken to the core. It felt as if an impending danger is imminent, the fear within me is palpable, and I was in intense anxiety. And God knows, I just hate this feeling.
Today was my boyfriend’s last day in the country. Last Friday (June 3), we, together with his family, spent the afternoon (lunch) in TGMs, just outside of the hotel we are staying. And yes, his family invited me to become a part (of their family) in their last days in the country. I reciprocated the huge privilege by practically involving myself in every activities they planned prior to their departure. It was some sort of a bitter acceptance to the things that I simply cannot obviate.
At that same day, Juan Marco asked me to accompany him to Cartier (in Ayala). He was planning to purchase some presents for his cousins, he told me. I proposed that we should go to Charriol instead, but despite my insinuations, he said that he already had his reservations there. When we arrived at the store, he told me that he was really planning to give me a present for my birthday to which sadly, by that time, he’s already gone. He presented me an exquisite Cartier watch (in mother-of-pearl dial and set with 26 jewels). My God, this is too much to ask. I wasn’t really expecting for this kind of surprise. I’m stunned by his thoughtfulness. He had pre-paid the watch and I was left with no choice but to accept it. In turn, I bought him a bi-dialed watch (exceeding my credit limit) to remind him that no matter distance and time barriers are at hand, my heart will always be waiting for his return.
Yesterday (June 4) was their despedida party (also at Hotel Intercontinental). It was a purely family event (plus me), and it was just a bittersweet moment. The champagne overflowed mixing with the tears. In my heart, it is absolutely painful watching occasions like this. I was emotionally drained. It seemed as if my heart was shattered into pieces and no matter how I organize them back, a substantial part will be forever gone. I suddenly felt alone and desolate. Despite all the consolation and solace, I still couldn’t help but feel abandoned and cry.
We spent our last dinner together in Le Soufflé. And we had our (drumroll please) final night at our suite in Intercon. We had the night together alongside red wine and flambeau. It was my perfect night ever. Despite the pains I’ve been keeping for the past few days, I just couldn’t help but feel glad, for things will finally be fine. His presence fueled my existence. We breathe the same air. Our hearts beat in unison. We are perfect. It is just wrong to break us apart. God I’m so alone.
Yet on the other hand, I feel extremely contented. Genuinely happy for the seven fabulous months of our relationship. It might be not that long, but it was extremely substantial. Why am I bickering with anguish and sorrow when I can rejoice and celebrate for the very good times that we spent together? I am fortunate that I met a good man in the midst of all aridity and disappointments that happened in my life. The time we spent together is nothing but a genuine testament of our true love. Suddenly, it was not that bad at all. The looming challenge is just another chapter in the chronicle of our lives.
Call it ambivalence, but sometimes I can’t help but feel lonely and happy, and satisfied and longing all at the same time. The flurry of emotions is tremendous and I’m left with no choice but to keep myself whole and unshattered despite all forces riveting my sanity. The clock at our room reads early morning and it is still dark outside. The scanty downpour of raindrops falls simultaneously with the tears overflowing down my eyes into my cheeks. He is yet sleeping, he has to prepare for the long road ahead. May the rain cleanse my fear and hurts. Wash my doubts and uncertainties. Purify my soul. Renew my spirit. Fill me with strength. May your strength permeates me with vigor. Heal me…
In hours or so, the sun will soon rise. And perhaps, the storm will soon be over.
PS. I’ll be crawling back to our bed. God really knows how to answer prayers. I am in deep gratitude to all who prayed for us. My appreciation to all of you who reads my blog.
Thanks to Intercon’s Wi-Fi and laptop privileges for without it, this blog will not become possible.
Today was my boyfriend’s last day in the country. Last Friday (June 3), we, together with his family, spent the afternoon (lunch) in TGMs, just outside of the hotel we are staying. And yes, his family invited me to become a part (of their family) in their last days in the country. I reciprocated the huge privilege by practically involving myself in every activities they planned prior to their departure. It was some sort of a bitter acceptance to the things that I simply cannot obviate.
At that same day, Juan Marco asked me to accompany him to Cartier (in Ayala). He was planning to purchase some presents for his cousins, he told me. I proposed that we should go to Charriol instead, but despite my insinuations, he said that he already had his reservations there. When we arrived at the store, he told me that he was really planning to give me a present for my birthday to which sadly, by that time, he’s already gone. He presented me an exquisite Cartier watch (in mother-of-pearl dial and set with 26 jewels). My God, this is too much to ask. I wasn’t really expecting for this kind of surprise. I’m stunned by his thoughtfulness. He had pre-paid the watch and I was left with no choice but to accept it. In turn, I bought him a bi-dialed watch (exceeding my credit limit) to remind him that no matter distance and time barriers are at hand, my heart will always be waiting for his return.
Yesterday (June 4) was their despedida party (also at Hotel Intercontinental). It was a purely family event (plus me), and it was just a bittersweet moment. The champagne overflowed mixing with the tears. In my heart, it is absolutely painful watching occasions like this. I was emotionally drained. It seemed as if my heart was shattered into pieces and no matter how I organize them back, a substantial part will be forever gone. I suddenly felt alone and desolate. Despite all the consolation and solace, I still couldn’t help but feel abandoned and cry.
We spent our last dinner together in Le Soufflé. And we had our (drumroll please) final night at our suite in Intercon. We had the night together alongside red wine and flambeau. It was my perfect night ever. Despite the pains I’ve been keeping for the past few days, I just couldn’t help but feel glad, for things will finally be fine. His presence fueled my existence. We breathe the same air. Our hearts beat in unison. We are perfect. It is just wrong to break us apart. God I’m so alone.
Yet on the other hand, I feel extremely contented. Genuinely happy for the seven fabulous months of our relationship. It might be not that long, but it was extremely substantial. Why am I bickering with anguish and sorrow when I can rejoice and celebrate for the very good times that we spent together? I am fortunate that I met a good man in the midst of all aridity and disappointments that happened in my life. The time we spent together is nothing but a genuine testament of our true love. Suddenly, it was not that bad at all. The looming challenge is just another chapter in the chronicle of our lives.
Call it ambivalence, but sometimes I can’t help but feel lonely and happy, and satisfied and longing all at the same time. The flurry of emotions is tremendous and I’m left with no choice but to keep myself whole and unshattered despite all forces riveting my sanity. The clock at our room reads early morning and it is still dark outside. The scanty downpour of raindrops falls simultaneously with the tears overflowing down my eyes into my cheeks. He is yet sleeping, he has to prepare for the long road ahead. May the rain cleanse my fear and hurts. Wash my doubts and uncertainties. Purify my soul. Renew my spirit. Fill me with strength. May your strength permeates me with vigor. Heal me…
In hours or so, the sun will soon rise. And perhaps, the storm will soon be over.
PS. I’ll be crawling back to our bed. God really knows how to answer prayers. I am in deep gratitude to all who prayed for us. My appreciation to all of you who reads my blog.
Thanks to Intercon’s Wi-Fi and laptop privileges for without it, this blog will not become possible.
Thursday, June 02, 2005
Great Sexpectations
In an episode of Sex and the City ™, trisexual Samantha was invited by a gay couple asking her for a sexual favor—i.e., to sleep with them in a threesome. She also asserted this fabulous quote on human love and sexuality:
“Who we are in bed is who we are in life. Wake up, its 2000. The new millennium won’t be about sexual labels, it’ll be about sexual expression. It won’t matter if you’re sleeping with men or women. It’ll be about sleeping with individuals. Soon everyone will be pansexual. It won’t matter if you’re gay or straight, just if you’re good or bad in bed.”
Is Samantha right? Are we secretly being judged and scored by the people whom we had sexual relations with? A+, B-, C, Failed, incomplete, withdrew without permission? Are there standards similar to a Glasgow Coma Scale / APGAR / Baker-Wong Scale (penetrating power, orgasmic intensity, foreplay potential, etc.) to which we are graded from zero to 15? If so, how can we know our sexual ratings from all people we had sexual encounters from all our present and failed relationships?
I have had several sexual encounters from a lot of people of all age, race, class, color and creed. Most of them are superb, while some are mere enjoyable, and a few are just mediocre. In my terms, there are no such things as sexual rating scales, just if I’ve enjoyed it or not (and if my partner had enjoyed the same). If what I’ve experienced meets my expectations, well that’s just fabulous, but if it exceeded, honey, he’s a keeper.
I find it hard to believe that we still haven’t had intense sexual contact with my current significant other. We kissed a lot of times (torrid, in public, and even outside the confines of the face), had some tactile explorations once in a while (from the chest to the torso), and even had a good grasp of each other’s bodies and merchandises. We shared nights together, we slept in the same bed (twice already), and shared the quintessential human passion and intimacies in a lot of non-sexual ways. It’s not the fact that my relationship is motivated by my worldly desires, it’s just that I’ve been waiting for things to happen and I’m still somewhat searching for more. Its not that I’m insatiable. I’m just hard to please.
Yet somehow, I still feel this awesome contentment with where our relationship is going. What we lack in sexual passion, we compromise in intimacy and commitment. I guess I just have to live with the fact that I just can’t have everything I want. Every now and then, relationships involve compromises, you negotiate, and you just have to settle for a decent resolution.
On the latter, I got to thinking that I am happier at present with the reality that I am getting everything I need. Most of the time, people committed in a relationship fail to distinguish what they need from what they want. In my case, I want to have sex but what I really needed was human warmth and love. And in this set of circumstances, I can say that I have received (and currently enjoying) everything I needed. There’s a huge difference. I can live without the “sex” part but without my significant other’s love and understanding, we are reduced to being animals in a process of debauched mating. And I don’t want that to happen.
After my significant other proposed that we must carry on with our relationship (this time it will be a long-distance one), I opened the infinite possibilities of falling in love with somebody else. It’s not that I have commitment issues, I just can’t commit to a relationship with someone who is physically separated from me. Call me selfish, but I am just a person with needs. I did not completely rebutted his proposition nevertheless, I told him that I’m very much willing to give it a try. Why not? I am a man with nothing to lose but my sanity. And there’s always a first time for everything, right?
That’s the thing about love and relationships. Sometimes we are blinded by the superficial, by the obvious, by the observable. Yet it always looks as if things are not always what they seem. What we have to do is to dig deeper, look closer, and try to feel harder. It is in being sensitive that we become more aware of the realities involve in being in a relationship. On the past, I thought that our lack of sexual ardor is a liability but now I know that it is not. Some things are just more important than the others are. It is in looking for the essential that we learn to prioritize things better. It won’t matter if you’re gay or straight, it won’t matter if you’re good or bad in bed, it won’t matter if you need sex or not, because in the end, what matters is that you love. You love wholeheartedly and unconditionally. You love without expecting in return. And in the end, everything will follow.
PS. This Saturday (4th of June), I’ll be spending my final night with my boyfriend Marco. Please pray for things to happen in accord to my plan. I had told you I’m not selfish, I’m just a person with needs. I hope he needed that one too.
“Who we are in bed is who we are in life. Wake up, its 2000. The new millennium won’t be about sexual labels, it’ll be about sexual expression. It won’t matter if you’re sleeping with men or women. It’ll be about sleeping with individuals. Soon everyone will be pansexual. It won’t matter if you’re gay or straight, just if you’re good or bad in bed.”
Is Samantha right? Are we secretly being judged and scored by the people whom we had sexual relations with? A+, B-, C, Failed, incomplete, withdrew without permission? Are there standards similar to a Glasgow Coma Scale / APGAR / Baker-Wong Scale (penetrating power, orgasmic intensity, foreplay potential, etc.) to which we are graded from zero to 15? If so, how can we know our sexual ratings from all people we had sexual encounters from all our present and failed relationships?
I have had several sexual encounters from a lot of people of all age, race, class, color and creed. Most of them are superb, while some are mere enjoyable, and a few are just mediocre. In my terms, there are no such things as sexual rating scales, just if I’ve enjoyed it or not (and if my partner had enjoyed the same). If what I’ve experienced meets my expectations, well that’s just fabulous, but if it exceeded, honey, he’s a keeper.
I find it hard to believe that we still haven’t had intense sexual contact with my current significant other. We kissed a lot of times (torrid, in public, and even outside the confines of the face), had some tactile explorations once in a while (from the chest to the torso), and even had a good grasp of each other’s bodies and merchandises. We shared nights together, we slept in the same bed (twice already), and shared the quintessential human passion and intimacies in a lot of non-sexual ways. It’s not the fact that my relationship is motivated by my worldly desires, it’s just that I’ve been waiting for things to happen and I’m still somewhat searching for more. Its not that I’m insatiable. I’m just hard to please.
Yet somehow, I still feel this awesome contentment with where our relationship is going. What we lack in sexual passion, we compromise in intimacy and commitment. I guess I just have to live with the fact that I just can’t have everything I want. Every now and then, relationships involve compromises, you negotiate, and you just have to settle for a decent resolution.
On the latter, I got to thinking that I am happier at present with the reality that I am getting everything I need. Most of the time, people committed in a relationship fail to distinguish what they need from what they want. In my case, I want to have sex but what I really needed was human warmth and love. And in this set of circumstances, I can say that I have received (and currently enjoying) everything I needed. There’s a huge difference. I can live without the “sex” part but without my significant other’s love and understanding, we are reduced to being animals in a process of debauched mating. And I don’t want that to happen.
After my significant other proposed that we must carry on with our relationship (this time it will be a long-distance one), I opened the infinite possibilities of falling in love with somebody else. It’s not that I have commitment issues, I just can’t commit to a relationship with someone who is physically separated from me. Call me selfish, but I am just a person with needs. I did not completely rebutted his proposition nevertheless, I told him that I’m very much willing to give it a try. Why not? I am a man with nothing to lose but my sanity. And there’s always a first time for everything, right?
That’s the thing about love and relationships. Sometimes we are blinded by the superficial, by the obvious, by the observable. Yet it always looks as if things are not always what they seem. What we have to do is to dig deeper, look closer, and try to feel harder. It is in being sensitive that we become more aware of the realities involve in being in a relationship. On the past, I thought that our lack of sexual ardor is a liability but now I know that it is not. Some things are just more important than the others are. It is in looking for the essential that we learn to prioritize things better. It won’t matter if you’re gay or straight, it won’t matter if you’re good or bad in bed, it won’t matter if you need sex or not, because in the end, what matters is that you love. You love wholeheartedly and unconditionally. You love without expecting in return. And in the end, everything will follow.
PS. This Saturday (4th of June), I’ll be spending my final night with my boyfriend Marco. Please pray for things to happen in accord to my plan. I had told you I’m not selfish, I’m just a person with needs. I hope he needed that one too.
Wednesday, June 01, 2005
Of Age and Men
Of my three serious relationships, all three of them involve men which are comparably older than me. And of my (more-or-less) 15 sexual ones, approximately 80-90 % of them happened to men advanced my age. Considering the trends, why am I more attracted, lustful, engrossed, and (genuinely) happy with guys older than myself?
An old psychopath once said that the course of which one’s relationship veer from is interdependent on the needs and wants of the person and his subconscious desires, wanting and deficiencies. Moreover, in his theories, he stated that people subconsciously chooses their significant others (S.O.) based on their unmet psychiatric milestones and on how their S.O. can fulfill such needs.
In other terms, individuals looking for older people are indicative of lack of parental figure to which the person identifies him/herself, while individuals looking for younger partners are like an older brother/sister taking care of a younger sibling.
This is the reason why Freud, the psychopath, had been greatly critiqued by psychiatrists of his era, and present-day intellectuals (like me).
While his theories make distinct, strong points, Freud underestimated the power of human passion and reason which is unique in every person. In fact, the subjects he experimented in his studies involved mentally ill clients he extracted from asylums in central Europe. In addition, his experiments did not even involve people with sex/gender/identity issues (homosexuals, bisexuals, transgender and transvestites). His theories may somewhat suffice superficial inquiries of insignificant shrinks, but believe me, I am no fool to believe a heartless and preposterous scientist.
This chronicle is not a critique of Freud or any madman of science. I don’t abhor Sigmund. He is an intelligent fool, I believe. What I detest are people telling me that I am a psychiatric aberration, a mutated specie deviant from the standards of normalcy. For god’s sake, I am a human person capable of loving and being loved in return. I have emotions too. You have to respect that fact.
What I also loathe are people telling me that I choose people older than me because of my great need of a paternal figure. This is my answer; I have a strong knit family and my parents have molded me to become the best person that I could possibly be. I have exceptional mother- and father-figures. I do not need another father, I already have one, and he is JUST PERFECT. What I need is somebody who will love me wholeheartedly despite the age differences. Didn’t we all believe that in love, age doesn’t matter? Believe me, it does not.
Returning to the original question; why am I really attracted, lustful, engrossed, and happy with guys older than me? This is the answer; because when I really love someone, I love that person in his totality. I don’t take into account his age, appearance, state, condition or position in the social strata. They are immaterial, irrelevant, and of no importance. Only superficial people operate those stupidities in precision.
I had previous relationships with younger men too. They are just as substantial and significant as the relationships I had with older men. All relationships are significant believe me. No matter how trivial or colossal they might have been, they are to be treated with respect and importance. People tend to overlook on that part. Probably it is because they are deluded with the fact that their relationship is the “perfect” one, or it is because they are too afraid to commit into one that they spend their miserable lives critiquing others, or they are just pathetic and useless trash nobody would ever dare to love.
In all its essence, loving someone unconditionally is the ultimate test of humility. It is in loving that we completely let our guards down, and we accept our loved ones despite their flaws and imperfections. We look beyond the physical and we delve into the realms of the unknown. We close our eyes to each other’s differences and opens them later to reveal that you are not different after all, just unique and inimitable. It is the mystery of love—you do not study to learn, you just do.
P.S. I’d love to extend my heartfelt gratitude to my very good friends iko lai and demiguin for visiting. My sincerest apologies for all the grammatical errors, I don’t have someone to proofread my chronicles yet. Keep on loving folks. My earnest wishes are with you.
An old psychopath once said that the course of which one’s relationship veer from is interdependent on the needs and wants of the person and his subconscious desires, wanting and deficiencies. Moreover, in his theories, he stated that people subconsciously chooses their significant others (S.O.) based on their unmet psychiatric milestones and on how their S.O. can fulfill such needs.
In other terms, individuals looking for older people are indicative of lack of parental figure to which the person identifies him/herself, while individuals looking for younger partners are like an older brother/sister taking care of a younger sibling.
This is the reason why Freud, the psychopath, had been greatly critiqued by psychiatrists of his era, and present-day intellectuals (like me).
While his theories make distinct, strong points, Freud underestimated the power of human passion and reason which is unique in every person. In fact, the subjects he experimented in his studies involved mentally ill clients he extracted from asylums in central Europe. In addition, his experiments did not even involve people with sex/gender/identity issues (homosexuals, bisexuals, transgender and transvestites). His theories may somewhat suffice superficial inquiries of insignificant shrinks, but believe me, I am no fool to believe a heartless and preposterous scientist.
This chronicle is not a critique of Freud or any madman of science. I don’t abhor Sigmund. He is an intelligent fool, I believe. What I detest are people telling me that I am a psychiatric aberration, a mutated specie deviant from the standards of normalcy. For god’s sake, I am a human person capable of loving and being loved in return. I have emotions too. You have to respect that fact.
What I also loathe are people telling me that I choose people older than me because of my great need of a paternal figure. This is my answer; I have a strong knit family and my parents have molded me to become the best person that I could possibly be. I have exceptional mother- and father-figures. I do not need another father, I already have one, and he is JUST PERFECT. What I need is somebody who will love me wholeheartedly despite the age differences. Didn’t we all believe that in love, age doesn’t matter? Believe me, it does not.
Returning to the original question; why am I really attracted, lustful, engrossed, and happy with guys older than me? This is the answer; because when I really love someone, I love that person in his totality. I don’t take into account his age, appearance, state, condition or position in the social strata. They are immaterial, irrelevant, and of no importance. Only superficial people operate those stupidities in precision.
I had previous relationships with younger men too. They are just as substantial and significant as the relationships I had with older men. All relationships are significant believe me. No matter how trivial or colossal they might have been, they are to be treated with respect and importance. People tend to overlook on that part. Probably it is because they are deluded with the fact that their relationship is the “perfect” one, or it is because they are too afraid to commit into one that they spend their miserable lives critiquing others, or they are just pathetic and useless trash nobody would ever dare to love.
In all its essence, loving someone unconditionally is the ultimate test of humility. It is in loving that we completely let our guards down, and we accept our loved ones despite their flaws and imperfections. We look beyond the physical and we delve into the realms of the unknown. We close our eyes to each other’s differences and opens them later to reveal that you are not different after all, just unique and inimitable. It is the mystery of love—you do not study to learn, you just do.
P.S. I’d love to extend my heartfelt gratitude to my very good friends iko lai and demiguin for visiting. My sincerest apologies for all the grammatical errors, I don’t have someone to proofread my chronicles yet. Keep on loving folks. My earnest wishes are with you.
Tuesday, May 31, 2005
All Seasons of Loneliness
My boyfriend and I had been canvassing for days now in search of a good plane ticket and a respectable carrier. We had been to at least three different travel agencies and had more-or-less satisfactory results. He and his family are now in their final selection process and in all honesty, her mother even asked my opinion regarding what carrier and schedule is on my preference. Whatever her intentions may be, I had no idea whatsoever.
His family had been very good to me considering their strict Fil-Spanish custom and values which I had a hard time understanding and practicing. Since the start of our relationship, his mother had been very congenial and accepting of me. She prepared a fabulous lunch for me and her family on our first lunch date with Marco (my boyfriend), and ever since, their residence had been very welcoming of me (and all my misgivings).
When I spent some nights in their residence, Marco’s family had been very amiable and warm with me. I usually sleep in the guest’s room but I believe they knew (at the back of their minds) that midway through the night, I share a clandestine rendezvous with Marco. It is not of the flesh I am telling you. We just enjoy each other’s company to warm the night up.
I’d like to believe that I had willingly accepted their decision devoid of all the grudges and insecurities. Yet somehow I still feel a little lonely and selfish and insecure and needy. Is it because of the fact that I had wholeheartedly accepted it, yet I know that my heart tells me that it should not be this way? Or it is of the fear that in the end I will be the only one spending my nights alone?
In my past serious relationships, I usually drown myself with fears, pity and hopelessness every time each one of them fails. Beside my bed are vials of noxious medications, cassette tapes and CDs of Cher, Leanne Rimes, Keane and Brian McKnight telling me to move on and let go, and large servings of chocolate cakes telling me that I HAVE TO be HAPPY despite my loss. Yet somehow, I still feel emptier and emptier the more I continue my “be happy” routines. Is it because I had become immune to such monotonous hullabaloos? Or is it because my mind had been fed up of the usual panacea and it really is time to move on? Or probably, because no amount of bullshit can hide the fact that I am alone, desolate, barren, lonely and all fucked-up?
Sometimes, such things just cross my mind like some heavenly omens. The more I delude them, the more they haunt me. The more I feel restless and anxious. And all the time, a comforting presence of someone (a friend or boyfriend) can soothe the pain much efficient and prompt than Advil or Aspirin.
Perhaps it is because I’m afraid. And this fear is not abstract for it is very distinct and real. I know I had a very good support system and the presence of my loved ones obliterates my anxiety and fear, but would it suffice? What if I need the belongingness and intimacy of my boyfriend, can a good friend correspond a purpose? Can I feel the genuine human warmth from my staggering frenemies?
Cause in the end, we all fear of being ALONE. It is as real as the clouds on a gloomy winter morn. As genuine as roses blossoming on a spring field. As real as the sun, the moon, the stars, in the complexity of the universe of the human heart.
So real it overpowers us.
So real we drown in it.
So real we despise its presence but we know its there.
And as I listened to the music of loneliness and solitude, Leanne Rimes’s words reverberates in my brain…
Suddenly you're in this fight alone
Steppin' out into the great unknown
And the night's the hardest time
When the doubts run through your mind
Cause suddenly you find your self alone
Suddenly I found myself… alone.
P.S. Sometimes I hate telling myself that I will be fine for it will not be. It won’t. Only time can tell, I know. God I feel so alone.
I know only Jeff Buckley can understand me now. I believe we share the same mindset when he was singing his Hallelujah. It is really a cold and broken Hallelujah.
His family had been very good to me considering their strict Fil-Spanish custom and values which I had a hard time understanding and practicing. Since the start of our relationship, his mother had been very congenial and accepting of me. She prepared a fabulous lunch for me and her family on our first lunch date with Marco (my boyfriend), and ever since, their residence had been very welcoming of me (and all my misgivings).
When I spent some nights in their residence, Marco’s family had been very amiable and warm with me. I usually sleep in the guest’s room but I believe they knew (at the back of their minds) that midway through the night, I share a clandestine rendezvous with Marco. It is not of the flesh I am telling you. We just enjoy each other’s company to warm the night up.
I’d like to believe that I had willingly accepted their decision devoid of all the grudges and insecurities. Yet somehow I still feel a little lonely and selfish and insecure and needy. Is it because of the fact that I had wholeheartedly accepted it, yet I know that my heart tells me that it should not be this way? Or it is of the fear that in the end I will be the only one spending my nights alone?
In my past serious relationships, I usually drown myself with fears, pity and hopelessness every time each one of them fails. Beside my bed are vials of noxious medications, cassette tapes and CDs of Cher, Leanne Rimes, Keane and Brian McKnight telling me to move on and let go, and large servings of chocolate cakes telling me that I HAVE TO be HAPPY despite my loss. Yet somehow, I still feel emptier and emptier the more I continue my “be happy” routines. Is it because I had become immune to such monotonous hullabaloos? Or is it because my mind had been fed up of the usual panacea and it really is time to move on? Or probably, because no amount of bullshit can hide the fact that I am alone, desolate, barren, lonely and all fucked-up?
Sometimes, such things just cross my mind like some heavenly omens. The more I delude them, the more they haunt me. The more I feel restless and anxious. And all the time, a comforting presence of someone (a friend or boyfriend) can soothe the pain much efficient and prompt than Advil or Aspirin.
Perhaps it is because I’m afraid. And this fear is not abstract for it is very distinct and real. I know I had a very good support system and the presence of my loved ones obliterates my anxiety and fear, but would it suffice? What if I need the belongingness and intimacy of my boyfriend, can a good friend correspond a purpose? Can I feel the genuine human warmth from my staggering frenemies?
Cause in the end, we all fear of being ALONE. It is as real as the clouds on a gloomy winter morn. As genuine as roses blossoming on a spring field. As real as the sun, the moon, the stars, in the complexity of the universe of the human heart.
So real it overpowers us.
So real we drown in it.
So real we despise its presence but we know its there.
And as I listened to the music of loneliness and solitude, Leanne Rimes’s words reverberates in my brain…
Suddenly you're in this fight alone
Steppin' out into the great unknown
And the night's the hardest time
When the doubts run through your mind
Cause suddenly you find your self alone
Suddenly I found myself… alone.
P.S. Sometimes I hate telling myself that I will be fine for it will not be. It won’t. Only time can tell, I know. God I feel so alone.
I know only Jeff Buckley can understand me now. I believe we share the same mindset when he was singing his Hallelujah. It is really a cold and broken Hallelujah.
Sunday, May 29, 2005
There is Always Fear in Goodbye
It becomes extremely frightening when the person you really really love and adore has to bid his goodbye and leave you hanging to a thread where fate and destiny is holding on to. You are left with a feeling of hopelessness and despair, fear and desolation, and all the vague ambiguity of amalgamated sentiments, all in the rollercoaster of emotions you simply can’t leap off or avoid.
It is not the first time that my Significant Other had to leave me. It was last December when he and his family went to the States to spend the Holidays. It was when he returned that he broke the news that his family has decided to migrate for good after taking his summer studies in Management in Benilde.
I was devastated. I felt so betrayed that I broke up with him.
I was back to my previous cycle of Sertraline and Sonata. Sertraline (an anti-depressant) keeps me happy and Sonata knocks my extreme sense of hyperactivity and sends me to slumber. The loneliness within is deafening but my friends barely noticed my grief. The pain is so palpable I could break down and die.
My relationship with my Significant Other, Juan Marco, is my sincerest relationship yet. It is in this relationship that I have invested all of my emotions completely and perfectly. I loved him wholeheartedly and unconditionally. And in my heart, I know that he loved me the same.
When I broke up with Marco, I tried to share my grief with my friends. I rationalized the legitimacy of my decision with the faith that I felt that the decision is partial and one-sided. Am I not a part of his life? Did he treat me with regard and respect? I felt so belittled and insulted. It seemed as if I’m just a mere insignificant individual in his perfect, faultless life.
Instead of setting me free, he sincerely apologized. He told me that the decision is beyond his control and that if he had a choice, he would decline. I loved him so much. I was afraid of losing him. And I know that the decision is frightening for him as well. We compromised but I still stood by the decision that we are no longer partners. I’m strong and I have a life to be enjoyed. Sometimes, love means having to let go. My life doesn’t stop with his leaving. Perhaps, it would be just the beginning of a fabulous life ahead of me.
I’m back to being single again. I opened up to my very best friends. When I consulted my very appreciative friend, she told me that I was being unfair with my decision. Admittedly, I felt somewhat ashamed of my stubbornness and inconsideration. When I broke up with him, I thought that I’ll become stronger and more resilient to the challenges of committing in a relationship. I believed that there’s no use in continuing the relationship when it will be obliterated just the same. There is no use of holding on and fighting for it. I believed that it was a losing battle and no matter how I fight for it, I’ll just end up with nothing but scars and wounds of failures and disappointments.
But I know I was wrong. The failures of my past relationship are there to haunt me again. Am I learning from my past relationships? Am I just getting older, and not wiser? This time, we both had a choice, and losing is never an option. My heart told me to fight for it. And I quickly responded. I’m not ready to lose someone again. Particularly not the person who I really really loved and respected, and loved and respected me just the same.
It was last April when we rekindled our old flames. We’re back together. He’s heading for the States for good and his flight is nearing. But I really want to hold on. I am willing to fight and die for this relationship. I know that saying goodbye to someone special to you is hard, especially when you never really know what will happen in the future. This is what I feel. Is this the end for the both of us? Perhaps it is. But I know that in these past few days, he had been showering me with love I really need to keep me alive. I learned to respect his decisions and instead of bickering on what went wrong, I accepted the process wholeheartedly. Relationships are hard I know and I fully committed myself to this one. We will succeed and flourish. It will not fail nor fall. Our relationship will be strong as ever as long as love is alive.
Who knows what might happen? I certainly cannot tell. Sometimes, goodbyes are essential constituents of a healthy relationship. For me, it does not evoke a feeling of doom and fear anymore. Instead, it brings to my mind the sense of continuity, stability and permanence, and change, transformation, and complete metamorphosis. Like the caterpillar transforming into a cocoon where it suffers in pain and agony, relationships also undergoes changes to test its strength. And it is up to us to emerge out of the pit of loneliness and desolation and fly as perfect and beautiful butterflies.
Relationships do not necessarily have to be perfect. Problems and trials are inevitable realities. Relationships are neither for the faint-hearted nor for the stubborn and close-minded. When you commit to one, make sure you’re strong enough to handle the dealings of it. Be prepared to get hurt. But be more prepared to learn. Cherish it and give it your 110%. For in the end, you are the only person who will harvest the fruits of your labor. And believe me, the fruit is in its sweetest in a relationship founded on genuine love, trust and self-sacrifice.
P.S. My boyfriend’s family is leaving this 4th of June. I’m asking for your prayers for their safe flight. Pray for me. I’m weak and feeble. But you need not worry, I will be fine… I will be.
It is not the first time that my Significant Other had to leave me. It was last December when he and his family went to the States to spend the Holidays. It was when he returned that he broke the news that his family has decided to migrate for good after taking his summer studies in Management in Benilde.
I was devastated. I felt so betrayed that I broke up with him.
I was back to my previous cycle of Sertraline and Sonata. Sertraline (an anti-depressant) keeps me happy and Sonata knocks my extreme sense of hyperactivity and sends me to slumber. The loneliness within is deafening but my friends barely noticed my grief. The pain is so palpable I could break down and die.
My relationship with my Significant Other, Juan Marco, is my sincerest relationship yet. It is in this relationship that I have invested all of my emotions completely and perfectly. I loved him wholeheartedly and unconditionally. And in my heart, I know that he loved me the same.
When I broke up with Marco, I tried to share my grief with my friends. I rationalized the legitimacy of my decision with the faith that I felt that the decision is partial and one-sided. Am I not a part of his life? Did he treat me with regard and respect? I felt so belittled and insulted. It seemed as if I’m just a mere insignificant individual in his perfect, faultless life.
Instead of setting me free, he sincerely apologized. He told me that the decision is beyond his control and that if he had a choice, he would decline. I loved him so much. I was afraid of losing him. And I know that the decision is frightening for him as well. We compromised but I still stood by the decision that we are no longer partners. I’m strong and I have a life to be enjoyed. Sometimes, love means having to let go. My life doesn’t stop with his leaving. Perhaps, it would be just the beginning of a fabulous life ahead of me.
I’m back to being single again. I opened up to my very best friends. When I consulted my very appreciative friend, she told me that I was being unfair with my decision. Admittedly, I felt somewhat ashamed of my stubbornness and inconsideration. When I broke up with him, I thought that I’ll become stronger and more resilient to the challenges of committing in a relationship. I believed that there’s no use in continuing the relationship when it will be obliterated just the same. There is no use of holding on and fighting for it. I believed that it was a losing battle and no matter how I fight for it, I’ll just end up with nothing but scars and wounds of failures and disappointments.
But I know I was wrong. The failures of my past relationship are there to haunt me again. Am I learning from my past relationships? Am I just getting older, and not wiser? This time, we both had a choice, and losing is never an option. My heart told me to fight for it. And I quickly responded. I’m not ready to lose someone again. Particularly not the person who I really really loved and respected, and loved and respected me just the same.
It was last April when we rekindled our old flames. We’re back together. He’s heading for the States for good and his flight is nearing. But I really want to hold on. I am willing to fight and die for this relationship. I know that saying goodbye to someone special to you is hard, especially when you never really know what will happen in the future. This is what I feel. Is this the end for the both of us? Perhaps it is. But I know that in these past few days, he had been showering me with love I really need to keep me alive. I learned to respect his decisions and instead of bickering on what went wrong, I accepted the process wholeheartedly. Relationships are hard I know and I fully committed myself to this one. We will succeed and flourish. It will not fail nor fall. Our relationship will be strong as ever as long as love is alive.
Who knows what might happen? I certainly cannot tell. Sometimes, goodbyes are essential constituents of a healthy relationship. For me, it does not evoke a feeling of doom and fear anymore. Instead, it brings to my mind the sense of continuity, stability and permanence, and change, transformation, and complete metamorphosis. Like the caterpillar transforming into a cocoon where it suffers in pain and agony, relationships also undergoes changes to test its strength. And it is up to us to emerge out of the pit of loneliness and desolation and fly as perfect and beautiful butterflies.
Relationships do not necessarily have to be perfect. Problems and trials are inevitable realities. Relationships are neither for the faint-hearted nor for the stubborn and close-minded. When you commit to one, make sure you’re strong enough to handle the dealings of it. Be prepared to get hurt. But be more prepared to learn. Cherish it and give it your 110%. For in the end, you are the only person who will harvest the fruits of your labor. And believe me, the fruit is in its sweetest in a relationship founded on genuine love, trust and self-sacrifice.
P.S. My boyfriend’s family is leaving this 4th of June. I’m asking for your prayers for their safe flight. Pray for me. I’m weak and feeble. But you need not worry, I will be fine… I will be.
Friday, May 20, 2005
The Language of the Heart
A very good friend of mine and his boyfriend are having misunderstandings typical of homosexual relationships. Both of them have issues in priorities, as the former doubts the latter that he does not love him just because he didn’t feel that the love was mutual. He texted me his doubts and sentiments and I explored the situation as open-mindedly as possible until I fully grasped what was really going on.
I’m somewhat into sharing my views about the situation when he texted me:
“Remember what happened with your boyfriend? When you once just loved him only when it was convenient for you? It hurts. I know now how he felt that time.”
Consequently, another message entered my inbox, from the same person:
“Di ko nararamdaman na mahal niya ako. Siguro hindi nga talaga. Hindi niya yata alam ibig sabihin nun eh…”
I’m quieted. Suddenly, I didn’t notice the tears flowing from my eyes. It was like a scene from One Tree Hill turned Queer as Folk. I’m in shock and disbelief. It was like Celine Dion’s lyrics “I can barely recall but its all coming back to me now,” turned-reality. I felt sad and disconsolate. It felt as if my mistakes are haunting me. My fears materialized. The retribution was deafening. In my mind I wished that this isn’t real. But it is. It is as real as the dozen tranquilizer pills I have at bedside. I’m so depressed I could die.
My mind wanders back to the times I spent with my ex-boyfriend. I considered him as one of my great true loves. He loved me so much without anticipating in return. He taught me how to love without expectations. But like all relationships, it ended as a failure—irreconcilable differences, priority issues, and my stupidity and infidelity. What else could probably go right?
I browsed my cell phone and searched for the messages my ex-boyfriend sent me when he was infuriated with the way (according to him) I used him for granted (but God knows I did not):
“You don’t love me. Pinaglaruan mo lang ako. I’m just your past time. Cause I don’t feel your love. You don’t even show what I am to you.”
“Please go on with your life. I’m tired. Just erase my number in your phone. Kahit masakit, kailangan gawin. Cause I have the right para maging masaya. And ayaw ko nang binabalewala ako.”
“Please don’t ever call me baby. AND DON’T SAY YOU LOVE ME… CAUSE YOU DON’T. GO AND FIND THE REAL MEANING OF LOVE. HINDI KA MARUNONG MAGMAHAL. Please help me forget you. You’re my nightmare. Sorry.”
I can’t help but see the identical resemblance of the hateful messages with the former messages my friend texted me. His messages are hurtful, indeed.
While my ex-boyfriend is sending me those wounding messages, I couldn’t help but cry. Cry for all the injustices, insecurities, pains, regrets, doubts, misgivings, wrong impressions, discrimination and all the hurt. I didn’t reply with angry messages. I accepted all the accusations as manly as I can be. I texted him with words of love and acceptance. And for me, this is my perception of a true love. It is accepting your faults and seeking no retribution no matter how painful it is to you or me in that matter.
Because in love, getting hurt and wounded is always a guaranteed reality. It is in how you make use of the pains and turn it into something wonderful that you’ll learn better and consequently, live life better. We haven’t talked since.
Hopefully, there will come a time when we will be in good terms with each other. I’m not expecting genuine forgiveness, it is just too much to ask. All I’m asking is a little respect, as cliché as it may sound. Relationships are personal, and no matter how you repress or suppress the emotions you have invested in it, the more it will overpower you. I’ve let go of him sans the grudges. But in my heart, he remained as the one who I greatly loved and adored. And it won’t change. He made a huge impact in my life. He will be my great man forever.
And I know that he will be able to find some vestige of forgiveness in his heart. In his time. In his terms. In his provisions. And in the language of his heart. And probably our hearts will beat in the same rhythm again. Probably not now. But the possibilities are still endless. And I will be forever grateful when that happens.
P.S. I have a loving boyfriend at present and I’m really happy and contented with where our relationship is going. I just need a little outlet to blow the steam off. I will be fine, don’t worry. Everything will be.
I’m somewhat into sharing my views about the situation when he texted me:
“Remember what happened with your boyfriend? When you once just loved him only when it was convenient for you? It hurts. I know now how he felt that time.”
Consequently, another message entered my inbox, from the same person:
“Di ko nararamdaman na mahal niya ako. Siguro hindi nga talaga. Hindi niya yata alam ibig sabihin nun eh…”
I’m quieted. Suddenly, I didn’t notice the tears flowing from my eyes. It was like a scene from One Tree Hill turned Queer as Folk. I’m in shock and disbelief. It was like Celine Dion’s lyrics “I can barely recall but its all coming back to me now,” turned-reality. I felt sad and disconsolate. It felt as if my mistakes are haunting me. My fears materialized. The retribution was deafening. In my mind I wished that this isn’t real. But it is. It is as real as the dozen tranquilizer pills I have at bedside. I’m so depressed I could die.
My mind wanders back to the times I spent with my ex-boyfriend. I considered him as one of my great true loves. He loved me so much without anticipating in return. He taught me how to love without expectations. But like all relationships, it ended as a failure—irreconcilable differences, priority issues, and my stupidity and infidelity. What else could probably go right?
I browsed my cell phone and searched for the messages my ex-boyfriend sent me when he was infuriated with the way (according to him) I used him for granted (but God knows I did not):
“You don’t love me. Pinaglaruan mo lang ako. I’m just your past time. Cause I don’t feel your love. You don’t even show what I am to you.”
“Please go on with your life. I’m tired. Just erase my number in your phone. Kahit masakit, kailangan gawin. Cause I have the right para maging masaya. And ayaw ko nang binabalewala ako.”
“Please don’t ever call me baby. AND DON’T SAY YOU LOVE ME… CAUSE YOU DON’T. GO AND FIND THE REAL MEANING OF LOVE. HINDI KA MARUNONG MAGMAHAL. Please help me forget you. You’re my nightmare. Sorry.”
I can’t help but see the identical resemblance of the hateful messages with the former messages my friend texted me. His messages are hurtful, indeed.
While my ex-boyfriend is sending me those wounding messages, I couldn’t help but cry. Cry for all the injustices, insecurities, pains, regrets, doubts, misgivings, wrong impressions, discrimination and all the hurt. I didn’t reply with angry messages. I accepted all the accusations as manly as I can be. I texted him with words of love and acceptance. And for me, this is my perception of a true love. It is accepting your faults and seeking no retribution no matter how painful it is to you or me in that matter.
Because in love, getting hurt and wounded is always a guaranteed reality. It is in how you make use of the pains and turn it into something wonderful that you’ll learn better and consequently, live life better. We haven’t talked since.
Hopefully, there will come a time when we will be in good terms with each other. I’m not expecting genuine forgiveness, it is just too much to ask. All I’m asking is a little respect, as cliché as it may sound. Relationships are personal, and no matter how you repress or suppress the emotions you have invested in it, the more it will overpower you. I’ve let go of him sans the grudges. But in my heart, he remained as the one who I greatly loved and adored. And it won’t change. He made a huge impact in my life. He will be my great man forever.
And I know that he will be able to find some vestige of forgiveness in his heart. In his time. In his terms. In his provisions. And in the language of his heart. And probably our hearts will beat in the same rhythm again. Probably not now. But the possibilities are still endless. And I will be forever grateful when that happens.
P.S. I have a loving boyfriend at present and I’m really happy and contented with where our relationship is going. I just need a little outlet to blow the steam off. I will be fine, don’t worry. Everything will be.
Thursday, May 19, 2005
[living in] sin city
If fornication, polygamy, adultery, concupiscence, bigamy and orgies are crimes obliging civil and criminal repercussions, consider me one in the thousand-long lists of felons lined up for lethal injection or gas chamber or [even] firing squad.
On episodes in HBO’s Sex and the City ™, Samantha and Miranda were once asked by their respective doctors to list down all the individuals they slept with or those they have sexual relationships with, and as expected, their lists were long, if not longer. In all honesty, I truthfully share the same sentiment though I believe that my list is much much much shorter and manageable than theirs. So far, in my list, there are less than 20. Whew!
I find it harder to think of everyone I had slept or had sexual relations with. At the end of every sexual relationship I had, I totally erase them in my mind as if I’ve undergone lobotomy under Dr. Phil or underwent a thorough psychiatric de-hallucination under Oprah Winfrey. In Samantha’s wordspeak, “When I’m done with them, I’m done with them.”
For instance, I met this married man once in a posh club in Makati. Imagine, he is sitting on the bar alone, making glances with me while I’m having a fabulous dinner with my friends. I signaled the guy to meet me in the men’s room to which he agreed thereof. He is cute all right, extremely gorgeous, and in his early 20s. He smelled of freshly-cut forest wood musk and citron zest with a hint of vanilla blossoms and evergreen pines. His cleanly-shaven face radiates a certain manhood, and his gorgeous charm will remind every woman of the Boy-Next Door look that every Delilah fantasizes of before going to slumber. Simply put, no hint of gayness, no tinge of homosexuality in every aspect of his identity.
We met at the men’s room and we french kissed instantly. The attraction was mutual I suppose. We let go of each other’s boundaries. We were extremely comfortable with each other’s bodies sans the inhibitions, reservations, and fears. We had passionate moments. We shared the instinctual intimacy. We made love as if there’s no tomorrow. It felt good. It was like a whimsical fantasy-turned-reality packed up in short stolen moments of extreme lovemaking.
We exchanged numbers and returned to our respective tables. The desserts have been served but in all honesty, I’ve tasted better. Human flesh in all its quintessence is better than some uncanny concoctions of confectioneries and sweets.
It is on latter introspection that I learned that my Boy-Next Door guy already have his own family. He told the facts the week after our first meeting cum sensual lovemaking on a fabulous but truthful dinner. His family doesn’t know the facts. He had a daughter age 4, and a son age 1. Every word he spoke struck me like daggers wounding my delicate but resilient heart.
I was shocked instantly, angry even, but at least I knew that we’re breathing in a more honest place now. I didn’t mind if I was just used for the fulfillment of his carnal desires, but I know for a fact that what we felt is good, just not right. Hell who cares? Why can it be wrong, when it feels just so right?
P.S. I haven’t heard from him since. Until yesterday.
On episodes in HBO’s Sex and the City ™, Samantha and Miranda were once asked by their respective doctors to list down all the individuals they slept with or those they have sexual relationships with, and as expected, their lists were long, if not longer. In all honesty, I truthfully share the same sentiment though I believe that my list is much much much shorter and manageable than theirs. So far, in my list, there are less than 20. Whew!
I find it harder to think of everyone I had slept or had sexual relations with. At the end of every sexual relationship I had, I totally erase them in my mind as if I’ve undergone lobotomy under Dr. Phil or underwent a thorough psychiatric de-hallucination under Oprah Winfrey. In Samantha’s wordspeak, “When I’m done with them, I’m done with them.”
For instance, I met this married man once in a posh club in Makati. Imagine, he is sitting on the bar alone, making glances with me while I’m having a fabulous dinner with my friends. I signaled the guy to meet me in the men’s room to which he agreed thereof. He is cute all right, extremely gorgeous, and in his early 20s. He smelled of freshly-cut forest wood musk and citron zest with a hint of vanilla blossoms and evergreen pines. His cleanly-shaven face radiates a certain manhood, and his gorgeous charm will remind every woman of the Boy-Next Door look that every Delilah fantasizes of before going to slumber. Simply put, no hint of gayness, no tinge of homosexuality in every aspect of his identity.
We met at the men’s room and we french kissed instantly. The attraction was mutual I suppose. We let go of each other’s boundaries. We were extremely comfortable with each other’s bodies sans the inhibitions, reservations, and fears. We had passionate moments. We shared the instinctual intimacy. We made love as if there’s no tomorrow. It felt good. It was like a whimsical fantasy-turned-reality packed up in short stolen moments of extreme lovemaking.
We exchanged numbers and returned to our respective tables. The desserts have been served but in all honesty, I’ve tasted better. Human flesh in all its quintessence is better than some uncanny concoctions of confectioneries and sweets.
It is on latter introspection that I learned that my Boy-Next Door guy already have his own family. He told the facts the week after our first meeting cum sensual lovemaking on a fabulous but truthful dinner. His family doesn’t know the facts. He had a daughter age 4, and a son age 1. Every word he spoke struck me like daggers wounding my delicate but resilient heart.
I was shocked instantly, angry even, but at least I knew that we’re breathing in a more honest place now. I didn’t mind if I was just used for the fulfillment of his carnal desires, but I know for a fact that what we felt is good, just not right. Hell who cares? Why can it be wrong, when it feels just so right?
P.S. I haven’t heard from him since. Until yesterday.
Tuesday, May 17, 2005
"it's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah...
I don’t really believe in things that are ‘meant to be.’ I believe that to make things work you have to do something about it. I'm not going to be sitting around and hope that one day the one I'm ‘meant to be’ will drop by and just take me away. No, I believe that if we’re both pursuing the notion that we’d want to be together we’d have to do something to make it happen.
In this light, I’m extremely proud to say that, “Hell! I’m done with the waiting,” and it was just well worth the wait!
Fighting to keep one’s relationship strong and intact is never a walk in the park. It entails a tremendous amount of faith, trust, and sacrifice, with the unending expectations that your Significant Other is sharing with your sacrifices and ordeal to make the relationship work. In a perfect relationship, do you really have to fight the enemies when you really have none?
I am a deep person… but that’s just me.
PS. Thanks to Jeff Buckley’s Hallelujah for inspiring me while I’m writing this blog. I am very much indebted.
Friday, May 13, 2005
Relationships... In General...
I'm learning quickly about relationships.People who know a lot about me believe that I had the perfect relationship with my present significant other, which, in fact, is too perfect to be true. He is 19 years old (one year older than me), has a perfectly-chiselled body and a very intellectual mind. He was introduced to me by a very good friend that I met during one of our usual rendezvous. He asked me immediately for a lunch date, to which I agreed of. And on the perfect day of November 6, we decided to advance our relationship to a higher level.
Our relationship is like any others—except that it was a homosexual one… yes, I’m also an XY.
Honestly speaking, I had a prior relationship with another man. It lasted for 2 and a half years. He is a medical student in a respectable medical school while I’m still in my junior high. I have invested so much in this relationship that when I broke up with him, I’m so devastated. I have given this man all the trust, dedication, love and understanding I have. With his leaving, I’m in my rock bottom. Fear grows in my heart—fear of loving, of giving my all, and of losing someone all in a single, indefatigable cycle. I gave my heart its much needed rest. I place my humanity on a quiescent, dormant mode…
I started living a depersonalized life. I engaged myself in relationships that require less emotional investment. I lived a passionate life. I had multiple partners, including people I just met in the bar, faint acquaintances, and of people I knew nothing of. In my mind I believed that the less I invest in a relationship, the more I will become resilient in my future relationships, but I was wrong. I became more faint, vulnerable and powerless.
With my conscious effort, I started living a single life less deviant from the temptations of the flesh and the body. I concentrated more on my studies and I started devoting more time with my friends. I made the much-needed progress. At last, I’m living this normal, average life.
At present, I’m extremely happy with my significant other. He loves me so much that I can’t imagine my existence without him. Perhaps, this relationship will never be perfect without the failures I savoured during the former years. I always tell my close friends, I learn a lot from my past and present relationships. And the more I experience these mistakes, the more I feel human. I’ve tasted my weakness and flaws. I’ve felt how it is to become defenceless and emotionally-dead. And I know that there will come a time that I will be able to harvest the fruits of my lessons. To taste the sweetness of happiness and success, not only in my relationship with others, but in all of my endeavours…
And for me, that time is now.
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