Two months without photographic evidence.

Rodj pointed out how some people can fill out a photo album (with selfies) in a week. (Or a day, even.) But while we were still dating before, we never had many photos.

We had very few photos together. If we compile all our photos, we won’t even fill three pages. We did a mental inventory: One or two in Baguio, some from Bataan. (He said photos with big groups do not count.)

So, no, we don’t even seem to have photos of us when we were still boyfriends.

That we were talking about these things while watching Deadpool (something in the movie triggered the conversation) on the eve of Valentine’s, our hands held, weirds me out a little because it’s several layers of surreal.

Deadpool movie still

But surreal is nice, too.

U.S.T.

I wrote this last year, but never got around to telling the story behind it. I figured a year is long enough a time to procrastinate.

That may have resolved several years of sexual tension. Or it may have not.

I had a crush on this guy from the first time I met him.

That first time was more than ten years ago: A girl friend from work tagged me along to his house for some drinks. It was a crazy night, from the things I half-remember. Said girl friend, having had too much to drink, threw up in his living room. To this day, this guy and I still laugh at that memory.

He was living with his boyfriend at that time, and I had a boyfriend of my own. I never even tried to flirt with him, in any conscious manner. We added each other in social media, but kept minimal contact for several years.

It was a surprise then when, after seven or so years, I saw him in a bar in Malate. I can’t even remember why I went there; it might be that I was with friends. I think he was alone, drinking. Or maybe I misremember that part.

The amazing thing was he recognized me at the same time I recognized him. It’s been years and I rarely post my photos online, or use my face in my user pictures. It was as if we last saw each other about a week ago. It was one of the things I liked about him: we can talk easily to each other, even during the first time we were introduced to each other.

We were both single and I was living on my own. He was drunk and wanted to sleep but didn’t want to go home. I invite him to my place. He agreed. At some point while we slept, we were spooned to each other.

But that was it. We slept next to each other and that was all. And yet it never felt frustrating, back then or remembering it now. At the back of my mind, I wanted to have sex with him and yet I was never disappointed that we never tried.

Years later, he admitted to me that he was thinking of similar things.

“We were, what, hugging?” he told me. “Maybe I was too happy with the Chairless Apartment. Or maybe I was too brokenhearted that time that I didn’t want to spoil you.”

But it was a nice moment, I told him. I can appreciate nice moments. Would it have changed things if we did? We did not pursue each other again after that night.

Eventually, I entered another long-term relationship. This guy also was in a few relationships for the next few years. Occasionally, we would come across each other; I even introduced him to my then-boyfriend. It seems that despite that one time of palpable sexual tension, we remained good friends.

IMG_20130316_230245

It’s been more than a year now since I broke up with that boyfriend.

Early February last year, I went to Ilocos for a few days to put a bit of distance from my recently-ended relationship. And all of a sudden, this guy texted me while I was on my way back to Manila. He was drunk and still sorting himself after his last relationship. At length, we talked about our history and the unresolved sexual tension we’ve had for years.

We agreed to each other a few days later, on Valentines, for a few drinks. We wanted to catch up with each other, and it looked like we will be spending the night bitching about our recent exes. Except we didn’t. Because of his ex.

His first boyfriend, actually, the one he was still with when I first met him. It was a curious bit of serendipity, for his ex to appear while we were talking of that time I was in their house. And it was a good thing, too. I liked his ex; he was a strange yet lovable guy, always spreading love for the universe. We forgot about the exes we were supposed to bitch about and talked of other things. And it turned out to be a good night because of it.

Inside a tricycle, while we were heading to another bar for more beer, this guy held my hand and placed his head on my shoulder. And we kissed. It was the first time we kissed each other.

Would it have been different if I decided to jump into this new chance for another relationship? It was only a month since my last boyfriend and I parted ways. While this guy still has not moved on from his last relationship. It felt like it was too soon.

We started seeing each other, not really dating, with whatever was happening to us a nebulous idea that lingered around our interactions but was rarely explicitly acknowledged.

It started going downhill weeks later. I, not aware of what he thought, was wondering about taking things more seriously with him while he, not knowing what I was thinking, began losing interest.

He met another guy and eventually they begun a new relationship. Ah well. I was heartbroken.

But this guy is, ultimately, my friend. One of the friends I’ve cherished for several years and that affection trumped over any kind of sexual attraction we might have for each other.

I knew I was over my heartbreak and no longer held any ill will when I saw him again several weeks later. He joined me and my friend while we were hanging out in a museum cafe (the same museum where this guy worked, and it was intentional); he and my friend took off really well. We were still there when his boyfriend arrived and I finally saw the person he kept mentioning in his tweets. He was a really sweet guy, yet gave off a impression of peaceful strength; I can tell why he chose him.

So we’ve defaulted to what we were before: friends. I’m searching in my mind for that sexual attraction I’ve kept for him for several years. It’s still there, boxed and kept away.

After all, the affection I have for my friend trumps over any kind of sexual attraction I might have on him.

A day described through unpublished tweets.

Several posts I sent to Tweetitow were not published yesterday and today. I guess their server is swamped again, so it can happen that tweets I sent yesterday will suddenly be published a week from now.

It surprises me, too, how I don’t feel bitter towards couples I see celebrating Valentines.

Must be because of growing older. I’m no longer bothered by some things I used to be bothered with. Seeing people openly displaying their love, not caring who can see, was heartwarming.

I had a late lunch with a friend in Eastwood and we were looking at them happy couples. One in particular were two guys whose elbows kept bumping as they walked close to each other. At one point, one guy was stroking the other’s nape. It was so cute.

Fuck! I accidentally dropped a steel liquor flask on several shot glasses. One glass very nearly fell on the floor! #klutz

I was inside a shop selling collectible memorabilia, waiting for another friend to arrive. I picked a flask covered with cling wrap to see how much it cost. It was somewhat sticking to another cling wrapped flask which I tried to unstick.

One of the flasks fell on the shot glasses displayed below.

“Fuck!” I shouted with horror when I saw that happen. The flask didn’t break anything, but one shot glass was shoved past the edge of the display rack. Good thing I was able to stop it from falling to the floor. Once everything was back in place, I very carefully moved away from that rack.

The liquor flask cost 1500 pesos.

That may have resolved several years of sexual tension. Or it may have not.

This requires a separate post.

My supposed follow-up tweet was: Just because you have the hots for each other doesn’t mean you have to end up as boyfriends. And that’s a good thing.

It’s been ages since I came home this drunk.

I even missed my bus stop and got off at Pasay Road. There were moments during the bus ride when I blacked out a little, I think.

And I woke up with a hangover. That hasn’t happened in a long time.