I really don't want to talk about it.
I tend to keep a small group of friends whom I trust completely. And even then, I didn't talk much about it. Think "minimal dataset".
Four years. Wow. To think I was patting myself on the back for breaking out of the two-year-itch curse. After three failed relationships (three on my belt), my partner and I did it--only to find out that our relationship wasn't it.
This makes four on my belt.
There is no great drama here about being jaded--or suddenly hating the world. But there is great sadness and feelings of loss. Maybe even moments of weakness.
I have nothing but good things to say about HIM. To this day, I see him as a charming, witty, brilliant, loyal, beautiful man that I respect and think highly of. I don't think that would ever change.
I think I would miss two things the most about HIM. First is the sound of his voice, second is his enthusiasm.
There is this soothing feeling that you get when he speaks, I could never pin point what it is about that sound. He could talk about books, movies, wrist watches, billiards, lucky buddhas--or the Philippine Elections and I would always be listening intently. We could be talking about anything and still I would want to know what he has to say. I am in constant anticipation for an exchange of words--thoughts and even thoughtlessness. And on interesting times, the sound makes me feel reassured. There is comfort in that sound. I guess this is what people meant when they say "Hey, this feels like home".
For those that know him, I am sure they will agree that HE brings with him this positive energy. HE would be skipping because we are going to eat binalot, HE would be close to tears because I got him the Weiss and Hickman book set, HE would be smiling all day because we are going to have a weekend movie marathon, HE would attempt to do cartwheels along the shore when buzzed from cocktails, and so the list goes on and on.
Irony of ironies, the happy man is with the kontrabida. Or was, with the kontrabida.
And living up to my kontrabida role, I broke his heart. This brings much pain and shame (I was no trying to rhyme and I hate the fact that it rhymes, it sort of makes all these sound like some cheeky bubble gum pop corn gig!). It kills me that I couldn't give more and as a result, he is hurting.
I was always the first one to say, "Ayaw ko na ng more friends, madami nakong friends, minsan nga nauubusan na ako ng time para sa kanilang lahat" (Translation: I am not looking for more friends, I already have a lot of friends and sometimes even, I don't have enough time for everyone). But I mean it when I say that I am hoping that later on, we could be friends. Because it is HIM.
It is also inconvenient that I was not able to thank his family. They have been wonderful to me and during my darkest hour, they were the first to support me. Until the time that we have parted, his family continued to support me--even if they knew that I have caused HIM grief. I could not fathom their concern and unconditional love, it was--and until now, unbearable.
I think I could never talk about The Moth Story (OUR moth story) and The Gift of the Magi without feeling that I have something caught in my throat. The moth story especially, and it is actually fitting. The moth, drunk with an illusion of an eternal love, chases after the light, in hopes of a glimpse of a self-reflection. We were deliriously happy, intoxicated with the presence of the other during our moments, yet constantly chasing after the light, in the hopes of spending another holiday, another weekend, another moment with each other.
The truth is, I was madly in love with HIM. And I don't think I would ever not love HIM. No illusions there.
After all that has been written, I feel like there is still more to say. How will you write about a great love in one entry? You can't.
I guess I would end here. But not without adding that if I were to go back knowing what I know now, I'd do it again. Because it is HIM. Only because it is HIM.
A photo from a long time ago. I thinks he looks better in Mclaren colors.
Willie told me about this a few months back, and maybe I wasn't paying attention then because it didn't really register.
I was feeling very high on Friday after getting a pack of White Rabbit Candies from my favorite store in Raffles Place (Ginseng House).
I created my South Park Avatar and I think I got it right on target. Yey!
I cut my hair. I think it is exactly how my hair was in the college yearbook. It is scary. My head feels super light. That is scary too. I look very tired in this photo. Can I just inject the word scary one more time?
I was looking at the arrangements that I have in my room and I saw something that made my heart skip. There were two new buds from the first bouquet that I never noticed before. Two white roses have started to bloom. Seriously.
My room smells of roses. Every nook has either a vase of flowers, or a bouquet. Roses. Red roses. I think I have never had this much arrangements in my room my whole life. Why is it that I am finding it hard to breathe?
