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.

First Love Damage

I've been gay since high school, I guess. I probably had it coming because I studied in an all-boys school. I didn't have a concept of how gay relationships are supposed to work. But the first time I fell in-love was in high school. I actually thought I was saved from these things, but it happened during my senior year. I fell in love with a junior. What was so difficult about it was he was a really good friend of mine, and it just happened. I didn't know I was in love with him. He had just told me, like a good friend, no, more like a best friend, that he had shortcomings, and that one of these was his being constantly horny. He told me that when he was in first year he had phone sex with a batchmate of his. I wasn't bothered by the fact that he had phone sex with a guy (that I knew, might I add), but at the fact that he had phone sex with someone. I was furious. I got into my car (yes, I was driving in 4th year high school, an expensive sports car) and left him.

He kept on calling the devoted landline in my room that evening. He kept sending messages to my phone. But I wasn't answering. I answered at around 1:00AM, and all he could ask me was, "What's wrong?" I didn't know. He kept on apologizing, until I asked myself, what was he apologizing for? We both didn't get off the phone that night. At 6:00AM, I had to tell him that we needed to prepare to go to school. Not one of us got any sleep. Driving to school, that's when I realized, I was in love with him.

I didn't tell him right away. It took months before I was really able to tell him, just weeks shy of my graduation. I was trying not to act weird and all around him. My gay friends knew, and they would constantly tease me, but I had my fair share of information that would always get them to shut up. But I did tell him. We drove to a quiet spot inside the campus, parked and just stared at the sky from the grass. We love doing that, talking about endless nothings. His head tended to run off also. And I told him. It was quiet.

Finally he told me that he was not ready. I accepted that. We probably weren't going to see each other anymore, I said. I was off to college, and he had his senior year to go.

So I went to college, and started a different life. A couple of months shy of my freshman year in the university, his friends from class sent me a text message. I needed to go back to the high school and talk to him because he wasn't functioning well. He wasn't applying himself to his studies, or to his extra-curricular activities. I didn't see him during the summer, and I was pretty damn sure I was over him, but I had to go back and at least find out what was wrong.

It was a Friday when I drove back to the high school. The grounds were pretty empty because it was almost 8:00PM. He and his classmates were still in school because he had an important 3-day event that he was spearheading, and everything was about to come undone because he just wasn't himself. His classmates blinfolded him, and led him to the driveway, into my car, where I was waiting. I didn't say a word.

"I know you're here. I know this is your car. I wouldn't forget its smell," he said with his blindfold still on.

I told him that his classmates were worried about him and that they had called me to talk to him. He asked me to bring him to my favorite spot in my college's campus. Fine, I thought. I drove to a secluded running track in my university. He took off his blindfold, got out of the car, and asked me to sit on the grass with him.

"I spent the entire summer not thinking about you," he started to talk. "And I tried not to think that I should have done something when you told me the truth about what you felt."

I was quiet, staring at the track field.

"Then at the start of the school year, even before the first month ended, my class had its silent retreat. I shared the room with a classmate of mine. One night, he went to my bed and started touching me. He took my shirt and shorts off, and he started to touch me. He put my cock in his mouth, and I let him," he said.

I was still quiet, I really didn't know what to think at that point.

"I had sex with him, during our retreat. But throughout, I kept my eyes closed, and I was thinking of you. I was imagining that it was you I was having sex with. I wanted it to be you," he said.

I didn't know what to say. I just sat there with him, quiet for another 30 minutes, until I said, it was time I brought him back to the high school.

We still saw each other after that because he ended up studying in my college, but I tried not to feel anything for him anymore. I'm sure he was hiding his feelings too. Eventually, I had moved on. I'm not sure about him, but I didn't love him anymore.

I saw him again recently, and we've kept in touch. But I don't text him anymore. What happened between us was just tough. And the damnedest thing is he never ever said that he loved me. Just that he wished it was me.

This Blog Isn't What You Think

borrowed from Psychcentral.com

So the title of the blog can be a little bit misleading. If you chanced upon this because you thought I was going to post actual confessions of philandering moments in my life, I'm sorry to disappoint you.

This is for my own consumption really, but if you want to join me in my journey to be whole again, I'm cool with it. Shrinks aren't really an option here in the Philippines. The only time you go see one is if you have to be heading towards the basement of Makati Med. But there are just so many things going on in my head right now, that I need to let out, and I don't know anybody who'd be able to understand.

You see, I'm trapped in my thoughts. Give me a quiet moment all to myself, and I get consumed by my mind. So many things just pop up, randomly. What I hate the most is if the random thought that comes to mind is something that I have tried to hide for so long; the hurts that have crushed to the point when I feel as if I'm hopeless, and beyond saving.

Blame it on Ateneo for creating a monster. This all started when I was in high school anyway. My thoughts went haywire during that time.

The truth is, I am broken. I woke up today, and while watching Grey's Anatomy Season 5, I realized I'm broken. The bad experiences I have had left me broken. Untrusting. Perhaps incapable of opening up to anybody. Maybe afraid to love. People have cheated me, have cheated on me, and now I am left cheating myself because I only realize now that I am so emotionally scarred, I'm exhausted of breathing already.

I want to pick up the pieces and start fixing myself. Because I don't want to cheat myself. Because I don't my want to cheat my partner. He deserves all of me. And not just the pieces that are good, but all of me.

Oh, there you have it. Its because of love. Now you want to turn away and revert back to the previous blog you were reading. No it's not about love, and yes it is. I need to do this for my boyfriend. But more importantly, I need to do this for myself.

It's 6:30PM, and I'm looking out the window of the condo watching the cars pass by Ayala Avenue. It took more than a decade for me to reach this point. And nobody knows that I'm hurt. Because when people see me in the office, they think everything is perfect with me, that I seem to have everything. And when I'm with my family, I am just the best son, the strong one. And when I'm with my boyfriend, I am his soulmate. And sometimes, I even convince myself of these concepts when I see me in the mirror.

I'm done denying. I am broken. So many people have broken me. And I refuse to stay broken. I'm done cheating the people around me. I'm done cheating my family. I'm done cheating my boyfriend. So this is me, fixing me.