Waking Up From Nightmares

I haven't been able to write lately on the blog because I've been so busy writing a novel.

Yes, I am writing a novel. I started a month ago. My boss commented that my first-world problems could be the plot of a movie, and that made me think. Movies sometimes are not taken seriously, but books, these are immortal.

The novel I am writing centers around me, Cityboy, and my boyfriend. I am honestly not sure how it ends, because the story is still ongoing. Right now, my boyfriend seems to be the supporting character who might get trampled on in the end, but who knows.

I've been waking up from nightmares recently. This past week, I would wake up in the middle of the night, and not be able to go back to sleep.

I woke up from a nightmare again today. Cityboy was in my dream.

I don't know what he feels about me, in the dream. He seems to take me for granted, in the dream. In the dream, I get a sense of yearning, of wanting to be with him. In the dream, I am in love with him.

I am in love with him, I know that. He makes me want to take care of him. He seems lost, and confused. He's young. I want to nurture him, but I don't know how to do it because I have always been the one on the receiving end of that type of love.

You always end up with the person who doesn't fit your ideal, my mother told me that. She preferred chinito mestizo men, and she ended up with my dad.

I prefer stocky guys, who are older, in a sense more mature than I am, because I want to be "babied". I am the eldest in my family, and I always had to be responsible, so I wanted someone to be responsible for me.

Its different with Cityboy. He's tall, lean bordering on muscular. He looks very young, and he's a bit on the immature and stubborn side. And yet, he constantly plagues my dreams. At work he's there all of the time, ready to offer a smile. The way he looks at me, makes me want to melt. The stolen glances he would give me during meetings, these make me want to hide under the conference table. The way he "accidentally" brushes himself against me, and I try to get away from that accidental "touch" only for him to lean in closer.

Is he straight, is he gay? He claims to have a girlfriend, and I was holding his iPhone for him one time when a message from "Hun" came in. So I told him that "hun" was looking for him and that he should leave me already, and he just replies, "Hayaan mo na yun. Okay lang." I won't even dismiss my boyfriend that easily.

I am ranting now, because a couple of weeks ago, I broke up with my boyfriend because I was so confused. Last night, I committed myself to him.

It is not a marriage yet, but I committed that I will stay with him for the rest of my life, through thick and thin, whatever comes along the way. Like I said before, Cityboy was, or is still, a crossroad. I had to ask myself which path I should take? Do I take the road less traveled? Will it really make all the difference?

I am scared. I am scared of breaking a heart, I am scared of breaking my own heart, I am scared of forcing a heart to love me.

8th Monthsary

borrowed from a post in Pinoy Exchange

I was woken up today by my boyfriend who had greeted me happy 8th monthsary. Seriously, I am bad with dates, and I totally forgot about our monthsary. I now realize that's why he was asking me to make plans last night for tonight's dinner. I was thinking, why make plans? It's not like there's a special occasion. As it turns out, there is.

I used to be good with dates. I'd know when a birthday, anniversary, or what-not was dated. I really had to think back when I started slipping with dates.

Contrary to how others would perceive me, I had my first boyfriend after I graduated from college. I wasn't really the type that I wanted to study first and in order to concentrate on doing so had to put a lovelife or a semblance thereof in the backseat. Contrary to that, I was too picky. There were guys in school who would make me ligaw, but I would say no to them, for the smallest of flaws that I would see in them.

There was a guy who made me ligaw from the department of Mechanical Engineering in the College of Engineering. He was hot, around 5'8", was a varsity swimmer, so his body was chiseled. He was a cross between Robin Padilla, and Wendell Ramos, and he drove a car, just a Toyota Corona, which didn't really fare well to the sports car I was driving at the time. I said no to him because although this chap graduated from San Beda High School, which although isn't as exclusive as my lineage in Ateneo, was still a fairly good all-boys school, he sounded like he grew up in the kanto of Tondo. I mean, it was so difficult to bring him to parties, because although he was eye candy, the moment he'd open his mouth, my friends, who were UP's elite back then, would just stop and stare, dumbstruck that such a beautiful doll had a weird provincial accent.

There was another boy, who was a year older than me in my college's department, and was very smart. He graduated Magna or Summa cum Laude, I forget which one. His body was pretty buffed at the time, and was very maputi, and he'd stand at around 5'9". He drove a Vios, which was kinda lame, and lived in the far-flung mountains of Bulacan. Last time I checked he recently joined one of those bikini contests. My problem with him, his teeth. They were crooked.

So I did not have a boyfriend in college, nope.

My first boyfriend was after college. He had actually been courting me for about 6 months before I said yes. He was introduced to me by an ex-high school classmate, and I say ex because he asked to be transferred out of our section. He was a Nursing student from UST, but I didn't take his school against him, because I fell in love. He was my first, and I was his first.

I was often staying over his place, and his mom really loved me. The mother knew me of course as the son's best friend. For all intensive purposes, let's call my first boyfriend Lou. Even though they lived in a ramshackle apartment in San Juan, I was always there, and I fell in love with his mom and little brother. The father worked in Brunei, but I did get to meet him also when he went home during the Christmas season we were together.

They were not well-off, so naturally, I would end up giving him really expensive gifts. I had just started working, and was able to put aside some cash for this PhP 30,000.00++ Sony Ericsson S700i I had been eye-ing.

borrowed from extragsm.com

When I realized he had an old beat up phone, I ended up buying him a Nokia 6260, which at that time cost around PhP 20,000.00.

borrowed from extragsm.com

They did not have a car.  So there was one time I bought a second hand car for PhP 25,000.00 for them to use. It was a Toyota Corona SE.

I ended up selling the car for PhP 35,000.00 because it was too much of a fixer-upper, and because he did not know how to drive.

For his birthday, since he was turning 21, I bought 21 gifts and distributed it to 20 of his classmates to give to him in sequential order. Each gift had a story, and the last gift would give the conclusion of the story, and I was going to give it to him in UST, after my work, personally. The story went:

Once upon a time, a little boy had a wish. He was told that only a certain powerful genie could grant him this wish. He went high and low, to the ends of the earth to look for this powerful genie so that his wish would be granted. 

When he found the genie, the genie asked what his wish was. The boy said, "I want to be brave and strong, so that I could protect the world."


The genie, perplexed, asked why a little boy would want such a responsibility. The genie persuaded the boy to ask for riches, and fame, as all the other little boys would usually hope for. 


The boy looked up to the genie, and with a tear rolling down his eye said, "Because Lou is my world."

Damn, I gave him all of me. I loved him with all of me, and I didn't leave anything for myself. I thought it was for keeps. I thought we were going to be together for the rest of our lives. Perhaps the reason I'm no longer mushy sweet is because he dried me up of my mushiness.

On our 8th monthsary, I sent him a text saying, "Do you love me?" I had sent this message for the past 7 monthsaries, and I felt it was my way of greeting him a happy monthsary.

He replied, "No, I don't love you anymore. Let's end this."

My first boyfriend broke up with me via a text message. I didn't know what had happened. I called him, but he wouldn't answer his phone. I went to his house, and the house was empty except for him. I went to his room and short of begging him not to let him go, asked him why. He couldn't give me an answer. We said our last goodbyes, and I left.

My world fell apart. You know the scene in One More Chance where Popoy would just stare, and remember a random thing, and start tearing up... that was me, before that damn movie came out.

borrowed from FTmovie.com

My officemates, whom all knew my boyfriend, would come to work and find me hiding underneath my desk, crying. I went to my boss, Anton, and asked for guidance, since he was gay also. He gave me good advice, told and taught me how to move on. He tried to help me out.

I was in Glorietta 4 with a good friend of mine from the office one day. We were shopping, to help me forget about the pain. I saw Anton and Lou walking, together, their hands clasped.

It dawned on me. Lou left me for Anton. The two, had been seeing each other behind my back. My boss, whom I considered a good friend helping me move on, had gone behind my back and slept with my boyfriend, and now they were together.

My friend saw my reaction and brought me to the Starbucks in front of the cinema. As soon as I sat down, I called Lou's mother and asked if Anton had been visiting Lou. She was glad to hear from me, and told me that she missed me, and that Anton had been introduced to her and had been to their house several times already.

My world stopped.

Then I did something that was unimaginable. I came out to Lou's mother. I told her that I was Lou's boyfriend. That Lou had broken up with me, because he was now sleeping with Anton. The mother cried. I thought she would get mad at me, but instead she said, sana ikaw na lang ang boyfriend ni Lou. Mahal kita. Ayoko si Anton. Isusumbong ko siya sa tatay niya. 

I heard when Lou's father came back that Christmas, he received a beating.

I was lucky. I lost a lot of weight, because I spent 5 hours in the gym everyday. I wasn't eating at home. Then one night, my mom went inside my room and asked what was going on with me. I told her I just wasn't feeling myself. She asked, "Is it because of your boyfriend? Did he break up with you? Bobo siya, pinakawalan ka pa niya."

Then my dad came in and asked, "Naghiwalay nga sila? Okay lang 'yun anak, marami pang iba diyan."

So they knew all along, I didn't have to come out to them.

I know they're still together. Lou's a nurse in Medical City, and Anton is a call center whatever in Makati. I see them around in Greenbelt. Of course, when they see me, I'm wearing designer clothes, and tote expensive cellphones, and usually have a lot of shopping bags with me. They both look like trash in their thrifted get-up and old cellphones (wala nang pambili ng bago.) I don't know if their lives have improved as much, but I am glad that they are still together. I helped bring them together. They owe it to me to still be together. Because I went through hell with the shit that they did to me, they sure might as well be worth it to each other. The bastards.

So there you have it. From now on, I will start remembering dates again. See you readers around, I still have to plan where to have dinner tonight, and pick up my boyfriend from his office after 7PM, the Montero's banned kasi.

On The First Time I Got Engaged

borrowed from blog.apartmentsearch.com

It was my 4th boyfriend whom first asked me to marry him. It was late in the evening and we were walking in Legaspi Village, in Makati, crossing Salcedo Street, if I recall. I crossed first and was surprised that he was still on the other side. He asked me if I would marry him, and I said yes. It was the first time a boyfriend had asked me if I wanted to get married. And I was happy.

It was a long engagement. Partly because gay marriage wasn't a highly discussed issue at the time. It's not a topic that people are open about, unlike now. Pretty soon, the Philippines will have divorce, and it's a small step but it will bring us closer to same sex marriage here. But then again, nowadays, you can just fly abroad and get married; it won't be recognized here, though, but the commitment will be solidified.

It was a long engagement and it ended not on the best of terms.

We lived together, for 3 years. And I just needed to be going home to my family at that time, leaving him temporarily in our apartment in Makati. So I've been shuttling from our apartment, to my parents' home, to work for several weeks. On our last weekend together, we were supposed to attend a wedding scheduled on that Saturday. We didn't go, because I had just arrived at our apartment, and we decided to just spend time together. I had planned on staying with him that night, but unfortunately, according to him, he had to go to work. Too bad for me, I had to go home to my parents if that were the case.

Sunday, I spent with my family, but during the evening, when I was going through what I wanted to wear for work for Monday, I realized the pair of shoes I wanted to wear was in our Makati apartment. Since it was late, I didn't text him anymore that I was going to pass by early in the morning to get my shoes.

Come Monday, I had woken up early, so I decided to bring the car that was banned for the day, since I knew that I had so much work to do, I would probably end up leaving the office past 7:00PM. I got to our apartment at 5:30AM. I went up with my keys, and I tried opening our apartment but it was double locked from the inside. I tried knocking, because if it were double locked inside it means he's inside asleep. He wasn't answering. I tried calling the landline of the apartment, and I could hear the cordless phone ringing from inside. He wasn't answering. Now, I was worried. What if something had happened? What if he was dead inside, and I wasn't there for him?

The door opened. He opened it. And behind him was someone. A guy. A guy shorter than me. Looks like he was educated in a lesser-school. He had slightly long disheveled hair. And he was obviously gay.

My world was about to crash, because I knew what it meant. But I tried to keep things together. The guy left, even said hi to me. I went in our apartment, and proceeded to look for that damn shoe.

He was asking me what was wrong, but I wasn't even saying anything so how could he know that there was something wrong. I just said, I needed my shoe. I found it, put it on, carried my Birkenstock's in my hand, and left. I got into the Pajero, and drove off.

The drive from that apartment to my office takes only 7 minutes without traffic. It was the longest 7 minutes of my life. I was fighting back tears. I didn't want to cry while I was on the road, because I knew my eyes would fog up, and I might get into a car accident. By the time I reached the corner of Ayala Avenue and Buendia Ave., my eyes were so moist and red I was praying to God already because I knew I was going to die. I knew I was going to get into an accident, and I would lose consciousness, and since I had an SUV with me, people wouldn't help me, they'd take the car, and I would be left on the sidewalk with nobody to call, because I had caught my boyfriend cheating on me.

I didn't get into an accident. I reached the driveway of my office building. I got down, and my assistant saw me because she was in the lobby, and approached me. The moment she touched me, as I had just opened the back of the Pajero to bring down my things, I broke down. I broke down and fell to the curb, and cried. She brought me inside the car, and I started to drive up the ramp to my parking slot, where I continued to cried.

I was brought to my office, and I was still crying. I didn't go home to our apartment after that. I went home to my parents' house. I asked him to pack my clothes, and later that week, I picked them up and left. When I was on my way to pick up my clothes, I called him to confirm if these were ready, and I could tell that he was crying.

I told him not to cry because he was the one who did this. He was the one who broke us. I told him whatever insecurities he had had in the relationship could've been solved if he just talked to me. I told him that his previous boyfriend, whom he was with for 4 years, did this to him also. He walked in on his ex and another guy having sex, so why could he have done this to me when he knew exactly what it would feel like.

I picked my things up and left, and he texted me that he just stood at the sidewalk as I drove off, and he realized that it was the last time he was going to see me, and that it had dawned on him that we are finally over... for real.

I have had so many pains and hurts that I need to be moving on from. This is one of them. I would sometimes catch myself remembering random things about my life with him. Life with him was hard. And there were times when we'd be financially strapped, and didn't have money, but we were okay. We were happy. At least I thought we were. I am more comfortable now that I am not with him.

I loved him. It was the first time someone asked me to marry him, and I thought that was it. I loved him, and he hurt me. And now, I need to start healing from him. I need to start healing. I thought he might've been the one. But now I know he wasn't.