Are the elements of the universe conspiring to bring me my heart's greatest desire? What are the signs?
What does it mean when I suddenly change my mind and go to the spa instead of having coffee? Nothing, maybe.
What does it mean when at the spa, GC is also getting his pampering?
Could be nothing. Could be a sign. All I know is that I'm supposed to have all aspects of my life aligned the way I wanted them to this time. I've seen the alignment in all areas except one so far.
Can I have my cake and eat it, too?
What's a place for you?
Randy David once wrote that when you leave a familiar place and get away from it for a long time, an inevitable reunion is usually coupled with wonder, of how the place used to look much bigger and more grand than it seems at the present. So when we leave our hometowns or birthplaces where we lived most of young lives and then get the chance to visit again years later, everything looks so small.
There are places we love going back to, comfort zones, like home or the chapel where we first had our communion. Places of our childhood mostly.
There are places we escape to. Places where we seek refuge and find peace. Not necessary comfort zones, but safety zones. Like an old bedroom filled with Voltes-V and Transformer toys, or the dampa by the creek at our backyard. Some secret places.
There are places we go to to be seen, and places we visit to be invisible. There are places that remind us of past romantic notions, and places that tell of violence. Places where love seem to exist, and places where it doesn't at all.
There are places we only visit once, there are others we cannot escape from.
Today my sense of place is rattled. I took Pasong Tamo on my way to my car dealer, nothing extraordinary as I have taken this route many times before, until I realized this road is where most of it happened. This is where I used to pick JL up on our way to Greenbelt or Bed or even to get fastfood. This is where we had our discussions (or lack of). This is where it happened, that fateful dawn one Sunday when I realized nothing will be the same again between us.
I tried to shrug it off, but something about this road forced me to think about JL once more. To be precise about it, he'd be gone 13 weeks tomorrow. Today of all days I'd take this road, and suddenly everything's back. Sorrow. Sadness. A myriad of emotions washed over me, but mainly, I felt alone.
Pasong Tamo isn't my comfort place, nor is it my safety zone. It's not a route I took just once. I've traveled through it many times, and it does not seem smaller than before. It is a road I could not escape from, and while I am not trapped in it at all, Pasong Tamo will always be part of the landscape. My landscape. My story.
Sitting here now, writing this journal and listening to my JL moping album over iTunes, I come to realize three months is a long time to carry my JL baggage. Rainy season's here soon. Time to travel light.
MK is getting married! After what seems like years of talking about it, he's finally getting hitched. And about time.
This is my second journal about weddings, and certainly not my last. At this time, my peers are "at the right age" to marry and start a family. Which brings me to the issue: I'm running out of excuses when the spotlight gets directed at me during these events - and certainly, it hits me all the time.
Excuses I had made when asked about settling down:
At 25, I was too young.
At 26, I was too young.
At 27, I wanted to finish my MBA first.
At 28, I wanted to finish my MSCF first, having ditched MBA.
At 29, I was not rich enough to start a family.
This time, at 30, I am choosing among these:
I haven't found the one.
I have yet to finish school, a few exams this last term and I'll be done.
I am not rich enough.
I'm still in love with someone from my not too distant past.
Pathetic excuses, destined to get me any of these unwanted overtures:
Set-ups for dates.
Set-ups for more dates.
Set-ups for dates with moneyed ones.
Set-ups for dates with reformist ones.
Checkmate. I can't use these lines, definitely not. Maybe I'll use these:
I do not believe in marriage (then quote divorce rates or some unknown statistics about unhappily married couples): certain to dampen any newlyweds' day and have me certified as an insensitive jerk (but I am).
Or I could say I am in protest, for the unfair, unequal and inhuman treatment of same-sex couples and refuse to marry until the rights and privileges given to heterosexual unions are accorded the homosexual ones. Reminiscent of Debbie (QAF Season 4).
Or simply say I can't marry, not in this country anyway. Period.
Now, one columnist I read somewhere gave this advice: When bugged at a wedding on when you'll be next, bite your tongue. Then when there's a wake later and you happen to see this same person, ask: When will you be next? Let's see if they'll bug me about getting married in future weddings (that is, if I ever get invited again).Note on the photograph: This is Daraga Church in Legaspi, Albay in the Bicol Region. Taken a year ago in May 2005 at one of my failed attempts to document the beautiful Mayon.
Enough. Such a powerful expression that seldom escapes our lips.
Why say it not?
Because to say it would mean we've reached our limit, and to have reached our limit puts us face to face with our worst fear of being inadequate, powerless to get more if not have it all.
Why say it then?
Because to not say it means we are succumbing to fear that the oppression would only get worse, that we are powerless to stop it.
Two sides, same coin. Strength on the one side, weakness on the other. Both reside inside us.
So when is enough, enough?
When you're haggling over money you don't even need, enough is enough.
When you're badly beaten and can no longer roll with the punches, enough is enough.
When you're loving someone who can never love you back, enough is enough.
When you've been promised the world but only got dirt, enough is enough.
Don't get me wrong. I've got the nicest set of friends around me, no matter how they all appear in my previous blogs:
*one who keeps on falling for the wrong guy and swears to be straight because heterosexual relationships are easier to handle (huh?)
*another who thinks marrying his same-sex partner of 2 months is a logical step to achieving bliss
*a bestfriend/gymbuddy who snatches my gymcrush after a "deadline", and does so in a heartbeat, then turns around and sets me up for a group date with, who else but gymcrush's ex (with gymcrush as bestfriend's date)
*a girlfriend at 35, virgin (sort of, but only until her bash next week when we plan to make sure she doesn't get "returned to sender" unopened).
*a highschool girlfriend who thinks only utility men and security guards dig her, so she turns her attention to Caucasians instead (and rightfully so, mabenta ang lola)
*a college buddy who thinks he's bisexual - but wait until he admits he's still a virgin at 30
*and one who played too much but lost once the last time, to the one person he least expected to fall for, a one-night-stand-turned-friends-with-benefits
A bunch of well-adjusted misfits is how I'd describe my circle of friends, and I love them so. Weddings? Gymcrushes? Unwanted virginity? These are spices of life that keep us together and sometimes apart, but only temporarily.
In the end, we'll always have each other, and nothing could change that.
Game's over. Gym crush is now ex-gym-crush.
Few weeks ago I unthinkingly made a deal with my bestfriend and partner-in-crime about how to deal with gym crush: that if a month passes by and nothing happens, I'd have to step aside and give way to his charms and capabilities, not to get me a date with GC but to get himself one.
Took him a few minutes at the Ortigas gym to accomplish what I failed to do in a month. Pucha, torpe talaga. Now I have to stay on the sidelines and watch as my best friend makes gym buddy (yeah, my partner-in-crime is soon-to-be my ex-gym-buddy) with GC. Double whammy! Can I at least keep my bestfriend as my gym buddy?
Now, imagine me on a group date with bestfriend and GC and, apparently, his ex. Napanood ko na ito. Too crazy for you? Not in my world!
