Would you look at that. I actually finished this thirty-day writing challenge thing. Although I feel a little mocked by the Universe for this last writing topic.
Day Thirty: My last love.
I started having a crush on Rodj when he posted a haiku on unrequited crush and ended it with “sayang ang condom”. I never told him this, but I was (and still am) a big fan of his Twitter posts. When we first met each other, he was a very quiet guy, taller than me, and quite shy; I thought he wasn’t interested in me.
But we became friends. And, eventually, friends with benefits. For some people, romantic or sexual relations follow a particular pattern. We had jokes about the timing of those times when we would meet and sleep together, when he realized there was a pattern to it.
Read the rest: I did not expect that we will eventually become boyfriends.
Day Twenty-Eight: A trip I can’t forget. (Baguio)
We didn’t have a fixed itenerary. The plan was to go there, visit some touristy places, and eat. Going to Baguio has become, for me, like going to a friend’s house — a friend who lives six hours away by bus.
I can’t remember exactly why I invited Rodj. I think it was because he was a bit depressed that time and I wanted to cheer him up; I was also itching to get out of Manila and wanted to have just one travel companion. Or maybe because I was already into him at that time. So I invited him to Baguio. It was our first out-of-town trip together.
We stayed at the Baguio Village Inn, a quaint old place made mostly from old wood. We ate at various places, some neither of us tried before. We went to a little fake cemetery in Camp John Hay, the Slaughterhouse district, and my favorite indie bookstore.
We went to the Bencab Museum; it was my first time to enter it. There was an exhibit from Gerilya, a local group of street artists, ongoing at that time and we enjoyed how the group poked fun at the Cordillera tourist culture.
I visited the museum again, several months later, with other friends.
Meeting up with him tonight was a bad idea.
He talked about red flags from the other guy he dated — warnings against getting further involved with the guy which he should have heeded sooner.
What I should have realized were his recent red flags. The abruptly ended online conversations. The evasion when asked when will we see each other. I was the only one who tried to keep our communication open.
We talked of former flames who left us damaged. We talked of our many personal dysfunctions. We talked of why he didn’t want me back to his life.
I see his reason and I understand it. But it hurts whenever he drives me away.
When the other guy told him that he stayed with the former because he didn’t think anyone else would want him I wanted to break the other guy’s nose.
I want him.
I love him.
I am not no one.
Three in the morning and we were walking along the empty street. I tried to hold his hand but he moved away. He crossed the street and walked away quicker.
And I realized how tired I am of running after him.
I let him turn at a corner until he was out of sight. I walked away slowly to give him time to get a cab and drive away.
He doesn’t want me anymore. I should have seen the red flags sooner.
Day Twenty-One: The one that got away.
I don’t think have ever written anything about Jemai. So here is one for Throwback Thursday.
We met in someone’s birthday party in the early 2000s. A friend in Livejournal decided he will celebrate his twenty-first birthday by kissing twenty-one guys.
(Was it his twenty-first? There must still be some record of it in Livejournal somewhere, but I’m not going to look for it; I will eventually discover loads of other stuff. Anyways, humor me on this recollection.)
I was, I think, Guy #11. Jemai was Guy #12. After we had our separate turns making out with the birthday guy, a common girl friend introduced us to each other and asked that we make out. She was into guys kissing. Jemai and I made out on the spot.
It became a frequent sight after that, Jemai getting drunk and making out with me in parties, sometimes in front of our friends. We even had photos of it. Fun times.
But we also started seeing each other.
Day Sixteen: The story behind the last text I sent.
Last week, my friend and previous housemate Lio sent me a message asking if I was available this weekend. He said he has a friend who wanted to have her cards read. We agreed that I will drop by his place near Cash and Carry on Friday afternoon (yesterday) for the tarot reading.
I met Lio through a gay forum website which I admin. We met in person when he, I, and a few other members decided to meet up and exchange porn movies. Some time after that, when I was desperately looking for a housemate for my old apartment, Lio volunteered and we started living together.
Lio was, at that time, a slightly spoiled single child who had little concept of housework. He didn’t cook and his main contribution to the apartment was mostly bottles of alcohol in the fridge. He did mature over the years.
He is now living on his own in Makati. He fetched me outside Cash and Carry; when we arrived at his place, his boyfriend Drew has just finished cooking dinner: an unusual combo of plain pasta, spicy laing, and garlicky longganisa.
More: A frequent joke I threw at Lio was how he was one of the few Bicolano I know who has a low tolerance for piquant dishes.