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.

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.

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.

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.

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.