Dahil nag post si Desole ng kanta...
At dahil inggitero ako...
Eto. Kanta din. Pero walang instruments kasi hindi ako marunong. At audio lang kasi wala ata akong movie maker. Lol.
Para kay crush. Sana matuwa siya kahit pano. Lol.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Saturday, July 24, 2010
KUI
It was a kiss that should not have happened.
We were not even supposed to be there in the first place. Who in their right minds go drinking on a Wednesday night? We had work the next day, at eight in the morning no less. But work was the reason we were stressed in the first place, so it seemed to be a good payback.
I was sitting beside him, our team’s new guy. I was not particularly attracted to him, quite the opposite, actually. He had a confidence that was bordering on arrogance. Physically, he wasn’t my type either. But that changed when he told me one day that the ex he had been talking about was actually a guy. We started hanging out after that. Trust a good coming out to break barriers between PLU.
I don’t remember how we started talking about our types, but that was our topic when I was on my fourth or fifth bottle.
“I like guys who are vain,” he said while pouring his second beer to a glass. “You know, the type who powders his face and wears nice clothes.”
“Really?” I asked. I did not expect that. I thought he was one who went for hiphop/dancer guys since he was also one. “Well, what about body type? Are you picky when it comes to that? You must be since your exes are really well built.”
He laughed. “No, actually I’m not that concerned with the body. I’m more particular with the face. I have a weakness for cute guys, even if they’re skinny or a bit on the heavy side.”
I was not sure if I was just a bit too tipsy, but I thought his smile was a little suggestive. Actually, more than a little. I took that as my cue and decided to prod.
“Really?” I asked, smiling and trying to look cute. “Well, what do you think about me?”
His smile faltered for a bit. I guess I was just tipsy after all.
“I told you this morning that you looked cute in your shirt, right?” he answered, a bit uneasy.
“That doesn’t really answer the question,” I said as I shifted sideways so that we would be face to face. Heck I already started it, I figured might as well go on. “So does that mean you think I’m cute?”
He paused for a few seconds before he answered. “If I say yes, you’ll be full of it. If I say no, you’ll be turned off. So I’d rather not answer that.”
“You really thought I’ll take that answer?” I laughed. “Don’t worry, whatever your answer may be, I’ll take it as just another guy’s opinion.”
He was trying to look away. I held his chin and made him face me. “Come on, just answer my question. Do you like me or not?”
He laughed. “That wasn’t your question.”
“Oh, wasn’t it?” I asked, still smiling at him. Our faces were inches away from each other.
“What will you do if I said yes?”
“Well, what do you want me to do?”
He paused and looked at me. Then he took a deep breath.
“Just go ahead and do it,” he answered.
I leaned in. He stopped me. I looked at him, confused.
“I want her to see,” he said. He was pointing at our teammate who was my best friend in the office. I turned around and called her. Then I turned back to him.
And he kissed me.
I heard my best friend screaming “Oh my God!” in the background. Then I heard a few more voices I did not recognize. When we turned to look, we saw the girls at the next table smiling at us. I laughed. “I think we should go now.”
It seemed like it could be the start of something good. I went to the office the next day with a silly grin on my face. But when I saw him, it did not feel good. It just felt awkward. Really awkward. I tried to flirt with him but it was half-hearted. And I did not know how to tell him.
Two lessons learned.
First, don’t expect any lasting magic from drunken flirtations. Chances are, the magic will expire when the alcohol does.
And, if you must flirt while drunk, never do it with an officemate. Strangers are a lot easier to avoid.
We were not even supposed to be there in the first place. Who in their right minds go drinking on a Wednesday night? We had work the next day, at eight in the morning no less. But work was the reason we were stressed in the first place, so it seemed to be a good payback.
I was sitting beside him, our team’s new guy. I was not particularly attracted to him, quite the opposite, actually. He had a confidence that was bordering on arrogance. Physically, he wasn’t my type either. But that changed when he told me one day that the ex he had been talking about was actually a guy. We started hanging out after that. Trust a good coming out to break barriers between PLU.
I don’t remember how we started talking about our types, but that was our topic when I was on my fourth or fifth bottle.
“I like guys who are vain,” he said while pouring his second beer to a glass. “You know, the type who powders his face and wears nice clothes.”
“Really?” I asked. I did not expect that. I thought he was one who went for hiphop/dancer guys since he was also one. “Well, what about body type? Are you picky when it comes to that? You must be since your exes are really well built.”
He laughed. “No, actually I’m not that concerned with the body. I’m more particular with the face. I have a weakness for cute guys, even if they’re skinny or a bit on the heavy side.”
I was not sure if I was just a bit too tipsy, but I thought his smile was a little suggestive. Actually, more than a little. I took that as my cue and decided to prod.
“Really?” I asked, smiling and trying to look cute. “Well, what do you think about me?”
His smile faltered for a bit. I guess I was just tipsy after all.
“I told you this morning that you looked cute in your shirt, right?” he answered, a bit uneasy.
“That doesn’t really answer the question,” I said as I shifted sideways so that we would be face to face. Heck I already started it, I figured might as well go on. “So does that mean you think I’m cute?”
He paused for a few seconds before he answered. “If I say yes, you’ll be full of it. If I say no, you’ll be turned off. So I’d rather not answer that.”
“You really thought I’ll take that answer?” I laughed. “Don’t worry, whatever your answer may be, I’ll take it as just another guy’s opinion.”
He was trying to look away. I held his chin and made him face me. “Come on, just answer my question. Do you like me or not?”
He laughed. “That wasn’t your question.”
“Oh, wasn’t it?” I asked, still smiling at him. Our faces were inches away from each other.
“What will you do if I said yes?”
“Well, what do you want me to do?”
He paused and looked at me. Then he took a deep breath.
“Just go ahead and do it,” he answered.
I leaned in. He stopped me. I looked at him, confused.
“I want her to see,” he said. He was pointing at our teammate who was my best friend in the office. I turned around and called her. Then I turned back to him.
And he kissed me.
I heard my best friend screaming “Oh my God!” in the background. Then I heard a few more voices I did not recognize. When we turned to look, we saw the girls at the next table smiling at us. I laughed. “I think we should go now.”
It seemed like it could be the start of something good. I went to the office the next day with a silly grin on my face. But when I saw him, it did not feel good. It just felt awkward. Really awkward. I tried to flirt with him but it was half-hearted. And I did not know how to tell him.
Two lessons learned.
First, don’t expect any lasting magic from drunken flirtations. Chances are, the magic will expire when the alcohol does.
And, if you must flirt while drunk, never do it with an officemate. Strangers are a lot easier to avoid.
Monday, July 19, 2010
Baka Sakali
Sa totoong buhay, walang bida, kontrabida o supporting characters. Walang taong inaapi lang nang inaapi kahit wala namang ginagawang mali. Walang taong ang misyon lang eh maghasik ng kasamaan. At walang taong ang papel lang sa mundo eh samahan ang bida sa moments niya.
Sana maintindihan nating lahat ito.
Baka sakaling matanggap natin na hindi tayo palagi ang tama.
Baka sakaling makita mong hindi siya masamang tao, hindi lang kayo nagkakaintindihan.
Baka sakaling pahalagahan natin ang lahat ng taong nakapaligid sa atin.
Yun lang. World Peace. Lol.
Sana maintindihan nating lahat ito.
Baka sakaling matanggap natin na hindi tayo palagi ang tama.
Baka sakaling makita mong hindi siya masamang tao, hindi lang kayo nagkakaintindihan.
Baka sakaling pahalagahan natin ang lahat ng taong nakapaligid sa atin.
Yun lang. World Peace. Lol.
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Home
When you were still a kid and you scraped your knees from running around, or fell down while trying to see how long you can keep spinning, you ran home and let your mother nurse your wounds. When you broke your toy, you brought it home to your father to have it fixed. No matter what happened, you knew that things would be fine once you got home. You knew that once you walked in through the door, you were safe.
The years passed. You ventured to new places and started living away from your family. You let more people in your life and they became part of your home. You realized that home did not have the walls and doors that you thought it had.
Then you met someone. Someone who gave your life new colors. Someone who gave you new reasons to live. Someone who made you feel happy and safe. Then you realized home has changed yet again. That person has become your home.
But something happened and once again, you find yourself wounded. You try to run home. But you remember that your home is the exact same thing that you are trying to run away from. Defeated, you stop running. You look longingly at what used to be your home and pray for the healing to begin. It doesn’t.
Drinking night with fellow heartbroken housemate. Last shot of Tanduay White. Cheers.
The years passed. You ventured to new places and started living away from your family. You let more people in your life and they became part of your home. You realized that home did not have the walls and doors that you thought it had.
Then you met someone. Someone who gave your life new colors. Someone who gave you new reasons to live. Someone who made you feel happy and safe. Then you realized home has changed yet again. That person has become your home.
But something happened and once again, you find yourself wounded. You try to run home. But you remember that your home is the exact same thing that you are trying to run away from. Defeated, you stop running. You look longingly at what used to be your home and pray for the healing to begin. It doesn’t.
Drinking night with fellow heartbroken housemate. Last shot of Tanduay White. Cheers.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Busted
I was at the mall with my ex today. Yes, we have gone out a few times since that last day. We’re exes on good terms. Not really friends yet but hey, it’s a start and I’m really happy. But that’s not what this entry is about.
“I heard there was a book launch yesterday,” I said while we were walking aimlessly around the mall. “I read a number of posts about it.”
“Yeah, I heard about that too,” he replied.
“You know, blog-hopping has made me consider creating my own blog,” I said. My ex is a blogger, but he didn’t know that I already had a blog. I was curious how he would react to the idea.
“Yeah, you should make one. You write quite well.” So he was okay with it. I decided to prod a bit more.
“If I made a blog, will you read my posts?” I asked.
“Yes, probably,” he answered right away.
“Well, what if I made a blog but told you not to read my posts, will you read then?”
“It might be a better idea if you just didn’t tell me about your blog. Well, actually, that wouldn’t really help because the blogosphere is quite small. I’ll probably find your blog one way or another. And then I’ll read.”
“What if I actually have a blog now? Would you go looking for it?”
“No, but like I said, I’d probably find it somehow.”
There were a few more exchanges like this until finally, he blurted out, “You have a blog. I know about it and I’ve read your entries.”
“Really? Well, if I really have a blog, what is it like?” I asked, pretending to be amused. I wanted to validate his claim without giving out anything.
“Two column layout. White-grayish theme,” he said.
“Pretty generic description,” I challenged.
“And your name is Ex Jason.”
“Oh.”
“You know, you really suck at keeping secrets.”
Lol. So much for anonymity.
“I heard there was a book launch yesterday,” I said while we were walking aimlessly around the mall. “I read a number of posts about it.”
“Yeah, I heard about that too,” he replied.
“You know, blog-hopping has made me consider creating my own blog,” I said. My ex is a blogger, but he didn’t know that I already had a blog. I was curious how he would react to the idea.
“Yeah, you should make one. You write quite well.” So he was okay with it. I decided to prod a bit more.
“If I made a blog, will you read my posts?” I asked.
“Yes, probably,” he answered right away.
“Well, what if I made a blog but told you not to read my posts, will you read then?”
“It might be a better idea if you just didn’t tell me about your blog. Well, actually, that wouldn’t really help because the blogosphere is quite small. I’ll probably find your blog one way or another. And then I’ll read.”
“What if I actually have a blog now? Would you go looking for it?”
“No, but like I said, I’d probably find it somehow.”
There were a few more exchanges like this until finally, he blurted out, “You have a blog. I know about it and I’ve read your entries.”
“Really? Well, if I really have a blog, what is it like?” I asked, pretending to be amused. I wanted to validate his claim without giving out anything.
“Two column layout. White-grayish theme,” he said.
“Pretty generic description,” I challenged.
“And your name is Ex Jason.”
“Oh.”
“You know, you really suck at keeping secrets.”
Lol. So much for anonymity.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Our Last Day
“Where are you? I thought you said we’d meet at 2pm”, was his text.
“Yeah, well, I didn’t go to the gym. Got too lazy, yet again. I didn’t know you were already there, I thought you were going to text me first. I’m really sorry. I’m on my way now.”
Even on our last day together, I was late. Well, it wasn’t really our last day. We broke up three weeks before that. But that day was going to be the day that I gave a definitive answer. He wanted us to get back together, I wasn’t sure what I wanted. I asked him to give me some time to sort myself out, he complied.
I wasn’t yet sure about what I was going to say. I thought I had made up my mind that I would end things, but as I was walking to the mall I realized I still haven’t really decided yet. I deliberately took small steps, trying to stall and think things over one last time.
“I’m here at the entrance”, I texted him when I finally got there. I stood rooted, every part of me uneasy. Then he came out, charming as ever in his jeans and white shirt. He smiled at me, I smiled back, and all the anxiety was gone. We were boyfriends, at the mall, all set for a date.
We spent the day together like we used to. We ate lunch. After that we went to a different mall to get a haircut. When I asked him if my new hair looked good, he just laughed and said I looked like a chicken. When he noticed that I was wearing new shoes, he said that they looked like something dads would wear. We went to different stores to look at clothes and he commented on my weird taste. When I wanted to try some of the shirts that I thought looked nice, he said that my flabs will just show. And whenever he noticed that I was getting disheartened, he’d say, “I was just kidding. The truth is you don’t have to ask me, you look good in anything”.
It felt good being with him again. I haven’t felt that happy in a while. But there was something different. The occasional moments of silence were foreboding. We tried to ignore it, we both tried to stall, but we knew what we were there for. And the gradual hours reminded us that we had to deal with it.
“So what’s your plan now?” I asked while we sat at one of the common chairs at the back of the mall. I took a long puff on my cigarette and readied myself for his answer.
“My plan?” he asked me with his brow raised. “My plan depends on what you’re going to say today.”
I looked at him, tried to say something, but I couldn’t. I was not brave enough. I wanted to plead to him to decide for me, but I knew I couldn’t do that. The burden was on me, and rightfully so. I was the one who asked for this, I made him wait. It was my turn to do something.
I invited him over to my place since it was already late. I was worried my housemates wouldn’t let him stay, but thankfully they understood. I led him to the terrace. We talked about many random things. I was smoking stick after stick, hoping to get a hold of my nerves. “Just one more then I’ll tell him”, I thought as I lit another stick.
Six cigarettes later, I finally built enough courage to talk.
“Hey, thanks for those two years and ten months,” I said quietly. Then I looked at him and smiled weakly. “And I’m sorry we had to end up like this because of me.”
He smiled back. “Hey, don’t worry about those months we spent together. We had good times, you and me. I just wish you just told me so I didn’t have to find out like that. I haven’t even started to heal yet from the first time you cheated on me. Then you did it again just a few weeks later. That really hurt,” he said as he frowned at me.
I was surprised at how strong his voice sounded. There wasn’t a hint of sadness, he sounded completely calm, casual even. I felt a pinch at my heart as it dawned on me.
He knew. And he was ready to move on.
I looked at him for the longest time, and then I averted my eyes, too ashamed to talk to him. I took a long puff at my cigarette. “I’m really sorry, I did a really stupid thing. I hope you can forgive me someday.”
“I was never angry at you,” he said in the comforting voice he had whenever he knew I was sad. “I don’t think it’s possible for me to be angry at you.”
I looked at him. He was smiling. That sweet smile of his that was full of love. Love that I did not deserve. Once again, I felt a pang of shame.
“So what’s your plan now?” I asked again.
He sighed. “Continue on living. That’s the only thing we can do really.”
“Are we still friends?” I asked. My heart almost stopped as I waited for his answer. I loved this man for the longest time. Heck, I still loved with him. Even though I knew he had every right to hate me for what I did to him, I still couldn’t bear the thought of it.
“How can we be friends if I’m still in love with you?” he asked. For the first time that night, I heard a hint of sadness in his voice. He smiled again. “Someday though, we will be friends. We’ve shared too many good times together for me to end up hating you.”
Even at the last moment, he had nothing but love for me.
The next day, we rode the bus together. I was going to work, he was going home. Just as I was about to get to my stop, he held my hand. I looked at him.
“I love you,” he said. “I just wanted to say it while I still felt it. I might never get to say that to you again.”
I was taken aback. I wondered how he could still have said those words after everything. Then I remembered that that was what made me fall for him in the first place. He was brave. He’s not scared to lay down everything and leave himself completely vulnerable. I wanted to kiss him right then and there, to feel his lips on mine and to wrap his fragile body in my arms one last time, but I knew it wouldn’t be right. He was no longer mine. With that last “I love you”, he had let me go.
“Yeah, well, I didn’t go to the gym. Got too lazy, yet again. I didn’t know you were already there, I thought you were going to text me first. I’m really sorry. I’m on my way now.”
Even on our last day together, I was late. Well, it wasn’t really our last day. We broke up three weeks before that. But that day was going to be the day that I gave a definitive answer. He wanted us to get back together, I wasn’t sure what I wanted. I asked him to give me some time to sort myself out, he complied.
I wasn’t yet sure about what I was going to say. I thought I had made up my mind that I would end things, but as I was walking to the mall I realized I still haven’t really decided yet. I deliberately took small steps, trying to stall and think things over one last time.
“I’m here at the entrance”, I texted him when I finally got there. I stood rooted, every part of me uneasy. Then he came out, charming as ever in his jeans and white shirt. He smiled at me, I smiled back, and all the anxiety was gone. We were boyfriends, at the mall, all set for a date.
We spent the day together like we used to. We ate lunch. After that we went to a different mall to get a haircut. When I asked him if my new hair looked good, he just laughed and said I looked like a chicken. When he noticed that I was wearing new shoes, he said that they looked like something dads would wear. We went to different stores to look at clothes and he commented on my weird taste. When I wanted to try some of the shirts that I thought looked nice, he said that my flabs will just show. And whenever he noticed that I was getting disheartened, he’d say, “I was just kidding. The truth is you don’t have to ask me, you look good in anything”.
It felt good being with him again. I haven’t felt that happy in a while. But there was something different. The occasional moments of silence were foreboding. We tried to ignore it, we both tried to stall, but we knew what we were there for. And the gradual hours reminded us that we had to deal with it.
“So what’s your plan now?” I asked while we sat at one of the common chairs at the back of the mall. I took a long puff on my cigarette and readied myself for his answer.
“My plan?” he asked me with his brow raised. “My plan depends on what you’re going to say today.”
I looked at him, tried to say something, but I couldn’t. I was not brave enough. I wanted to plead to him to decide for me, but I knew I couldn’t do that. The burden was on me, and rightfully so. I was the one who asked for this, I made him wait. It was my turn to do something.
I invited him over to my place since it was already late. I was worried my housemates wouldn’t let him stay, but thankfully they understood. I led him to the terrace. We talked about many random things. I was smoking stick after stick, hoping to get a hold of my nerves. “Just one more then I’ll tell him”, I thought as I lit another stick.
Six cigarettes later, I finally built enough courage to talk.
“Hey, thanks for those two years and ten months,” I said quietly. Then I looked at him and smiled weakly. “And I’m sorry we had to end up like this because of me.”
He smiled back. “Hey, don’t worry about those months we spent together. We had good times, you and me. I just wish you just told me so I didn’t have to find out like that. I haven’t even started to heal yet from the first time you cheated on me. Then you did it again just a few weeks later. That really hurt,” he said as he frowned at me.
I was surprised at how strong his voice sounded. There wasn’t a hint of sadness, he sounded completely calm, casual even. I felt a pinch at my heart as it dawned on me.
He knew. And he was ready to move on.
I looked at him for the longest time, and then I averted my eyes, too ashamed to talk to him. I took a long puff at my cigarette. “I’m really sorry, I did a really stupid thing. I hope you can forgive me someday.”
“I was never angry at you,” he said in the comforting voice he had whenever he knew I was sad. “I don’t think it’s possible for me to be angry at you.”
I looked at him. He was smiling. That sweet smile of his that was full of love. Love that I did not deserve. Once again, I felt a pang of shame.
“So what’s your plan now?” I asked again.
He sighed. “Continue on living. That’s the only thing we can do really.”
“Are we still friends?” I asked. My heart almost stopped as I waited for his answer. I loved this man for the longest time. Heck, I still loved with him. Even though I knew he had every right to hate me for what I did to him, I still couldn’t bear the thought of it.
“How can we be friends if I’m still in love with you?” he asked. For the first time that night, I heard a hint of sadness in his voice. He smiled again. “Someday though, we will be friends. We’ve shared too many good times together for me to end up hating you.”
Even at the last moment, he had nothing but love for me.
The next day, we rode the bus together. I was going to work, he was going home. Just as I was about to get to my stop, he held my hand. I looked at him.
“I love you,” he said. “I just wanted to say it while I still felt it. I might never get to say that to you again.”
I was taken aback. I wondered how he could still have said those words after everything. Then I remembered that that was what made me fall for him in the first place. He was brave. He’s not scared to lay down everything and leave himself completely vulnerable. I wanted to kiss him right then and there, to feel his lips on mine and to wrap his fragile body in my arms one last time, but I knew it wouldn’t be right. He was no longer mine. With that last “I love you”, he had let me go.
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Breakup Story
Sunday
“Who is Jay?” he asked me, his voice cold. I looked at him, confused. I had just woken up and had not yet completely collected myself.
“Who is Liphil? Who is Francis? Who is Neo?”
It was then that I realized what he was talking about. I panicked. I tried to make up a story. I was usually good at that, but that night he saw through me. He smiled weakly, said goodbye and left.
It was our last night at our college apartment. We were going to have dinner at our favourite restaurant, sleep in our apartment for the last time, and then take the bus back to the city together the next day.
Monday
“Jason, why is Dainn single on Facebook?”
It was the tenth text that day. I didn’t reply to it either. I still didn’t know what to say.
My phone rang again. Great, another one, I thought to myself.
“Hey, want to have dinner tonight? Come on, it’s long overdue. I want to meet you. -Jay”
I did not reply. Soon enough, I got another text asking me if Dainn and I really broke up. I reopened Jay’s message and read it over a few more times.
“Sure. Meet you at six.”
Tuesday
“Hey Jason, have you read Dainn’s newest blog entry?”
I haven’t. I wasn’t allowed to go to his blog. Or his twitter. We weren’t Facebook friends either. He wanted to keep those as his personal space.
I asked my officemate to read it. I told her not to tell me what was in there, but I knew that I’d find out somehow. “Oh my God,” she said after she finished reading. “Jason, I’m so sorry.”
I sighed. I opened my Facebook, stared at the “In a relationship” status for a while, then changed it to “Single.”
“Single. After almost three years. Hey, can we drink tonight? It’s on me.”
Wednesday
“Hey Jason, I heard about what happened,” Francis texted me.
“How?” I asked, surprised.
“Facebook. I’ve been stalking you for a while. Hehe. I’m sorry, you were together for so long.” God, even Francis is saying that.
“It’s okay. I’m coping somehow. It was my fault, anyway. Hey, are you doing anything tonight? I want to drink but no one here in the office wants to come with me. I really need something to distract me.”
“Aw, I can’t. I’m going to meet a friend tonight. I’ll see if I can come with you tomorrow.”
“Friend? What kind of friend?”
“Haha. A thirty-something guy. We meet up whenever he’s here in Manila. I’m staying over at his place tonight.”
I sighed and closed my eyes. A distraction. After a few minutes, I replied.
“Can I come with you?”
Thursday
“Hey, can we talk? I want closure. I want to move on.” It was Dainn. It was the first time we texted after the breakup.
“I’m not ready to move on yet,” I replied.
“Then can we just fix this?”
“I don’t know what I want yet.”
It was then that Dainn said something I did not expect at all.
“Jason, I’m sorry I walked out on you. I shouldn’t have done that. Please take me back. Let’s try to work things out.”
That was when I realized that our relationship was no longer healthy for him. And it was no longer fair.
“Let’s not rush. If we try to do this while we’re all emotional, we’ll just kiss and make up right away. Then we’ll find ourselves back in this situation. Let’s talk again after three weeks. Hopefully by then, we would know what we really want.”
“Who is Jay?” he asked me, his voice cold. I looked at him, confused. I had just woken up and had not yet completely collected myself.
“Who is Liphil? Who is Francis? Who is Neo?”
It was then that I realized what he was talking about. I panicked. I tried to make up a story. I was usually good at that, but that night he saw through me. He smiled weakly, said goodbye and left.
It was our last night at our college apartment. We were going to have dinner at our favourite restaurant, sleep in our apartment for the last time, and then take the bus back to the city together the next day.
Monday
“Jason, why is Dainn single on Facebook?”
It was the tenth text that day. I didn’t reply to it either. I still didn’t know what to say.
My phone rang again. Great, another one, I thought to myself.
“Hey, want to have dinner tonight? Come on, it’s long overdue. I want to meet you. -Jay”
I did not reply. Soon enough, I got another text asking me if Dainn and I really broke up. I reopened Jay’s message and read it over a few more times.
“Sure. Meet you at six.”
Tuesday
“Hey Jason, have you read Dainn’s newest blog entry?”
I haven’t. I wasn’t allowed to go to his blog. Or his twitter. We weren’t Facebook friends either. He wanted to keep those as his personal space.
I asked my officemate to read it. I told her not to tell me what was in there, but I knew that I’d find out somehow. “Oh my God,” she said after she finished reading. “Jason, I’m so sorry.”
I sighed. I opened my Facebook, stared at the “In a relationship” status for a while, then changed it to “Single.”
“Single. After almost three years. Hey, can we drink tonight? It’s on me.”
Wednesday
“Hey Jason, I heard about what happened,” Francis texted me.
“How?” I asked, surprised.
“Facebook. I’ve been stalking you for a while. Hehe. I’m sorry, you were together for so long.” God, even Francis is saying that.
“It’s okay. I’m coping somehow. It was my fault, anyway. Hey, are you doing anything tonight? I want to drink but no one here in the office wants to come with me. I really need something to distract me.”
“Aw, I can’t. I’m going to meet a friend tonight. I’ll see if I can come with you tomorrow.”
“Friend? What kind of friend?”
“Haha. A thirty-something guy. We meet up whenever he’s here in Manila. I’m staying over at his place tonight.”
I sighed and closed my eyes. A distraction. After a few minutes, I replied.
“Can I come with you?”
Thursday
“Hey, can we talk? I want closure. I want to move on.” It was Dainn. It was the first time we texted after the breakup.
“I’m not ready to move on yet,” I replied.
“Then can we just fix this?”
“I don’t know what I want yet.”
It was then that Dainn said something I did not expect at all.
“Jason, I’m sorry I walked out on you. I shouldn’t have done that. Please take me back. Let’s try to work things out.”
That was when I realized that our relationship was no longer healthy for him. And it was no longer fair.
“Let’s not rush. If we try to do this while we’re all emotional, we’ll just kiss and make up right away. Then we’ll find ourselves back in this situation. Let’s talk again after three weeks. Hopefully by then, we would know what we really want.”
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