The War Zone

I guess I’d been putting it off for a while. Talking about my birthday, I mean.

I’d love to put off my birthday all together, but I really couldn’t do that, could I? I mean, could anyone really postpone their birthday for one more year?

I guess I’m getting pretty sensitive about the topic of birthdays and age. After all, I’m not really young anymore. I’ve reached that point in the middle. Maybe I’m even already beyond it. And being at this point in my life makes me want to look back and evaluate my past.

Obviously, my lovelife’s a dud. I pretty much accepted the fact that I would never have the whole wife-and-kids package. Having absolutely no desire to have sex with women kinda puts that on the nearly impossible category. Falling in love with men who couldn’t love me the same way is the real killer, though. I mean, why the hell can’t I just fall for someone who’s already so much into me?

That’s one of my biggest character flaws, I suppose. Easy doesn’t cut it. There’s always gotta be complications.

I’m trying to be mature about it. But any way i think about it, it’s simply unfair for me to be single at this age. Why the fV<k can’t I just fall in love with someone who loves me the same way and be finally happy?

Everything else in my life has started falling into place. I have my own house now. I’m doing well at work. I’m respected and admired by my peers. I’m supposed to be having the time of my life!

But I still feel empty.

Dammit! If you’re out there, will you please hurry it up? It’s been 31 years, for Pete’s sake! I’m not getting any younger!

I guess I should feel blessed for the things and people that I have in my life. The thing is, knowing about all the good things and the people who love me just kinda makes me think more about the thing that I’m missing.

I’m supposed to be living my life. So why do I feel stuck?

Is this it? Is this the so-called and much talked about mid-life crisis? Have I been sucked into the cliche?

I dunno. As far as I’m concerned, I’d been complaining incessantly about the same things for the past decade. I’m still complaining.

I’m still lonely as ever.

It’s Christmas and my family is staying with me in my new house. I should be happy. I should.

But I’m not. I still long for the day when I could spend this day with someone special. He would be with me and my family as we enjoy our Noche Buena together. We would be happy together.

I still feel like I’m missing a huge part of my life. I’m still incomplete. No matter how many house I buy; no matter how high up the corporate ladder I climb; or how much money I make… I would still long for him… the one who would complete me.

Until then, I’ll be stuck here… in the middle… waiting for him to come meet me half-way.

Will you hurry up, please?

It happened again last night.

I went to this birthday party of a friend from work and, of course, he invited some of his friends from the neighborhood. One of them is a trainee being handled by Roj, one of the trainers under me.

It was kinda funny, but he thought Roj was gay until they met his girlfriend, who was quite pretty by the way. I laughed and said that no, Roj is straight; I am gay.

That brought the usual pregnant pause that comes after I come out to a new group. Of course, that kind of reaction never ceases to amaze me. It really was incredibly funny.

So I laughed. And they laughed back thinking I was just kidding. It took quite a while of convincing (and quite a few testimonials from the people who knew me) before they finally believed that I am gay.

I guess I really don’t fit the stereotype. Like I said before in these blogs, I am a man in a lot more ways than anatomy. I dress like your typical guy (totally unfashionable); I speak like any other guy; I act like them; I even think like them. Only difference is I think about men the way they think about women.

I mean, I see a man’s nice @$$ and I salivate the way other men lustily looks at a woman’s nice @$$. Broad, muscular men’s chests get me off the way other men pop a boner when they see a woman’s 36D juggies. And I do love sex as much as any other men… only, I would do it with men rather than women.

It’s not really hard for me to understand. But I guess other people just don’t get it. It becomes a little frustrating sometimes but after a while, it’s just funny.

I guess what gets them thinking the most is why I would willingly be honest about my sexuality when I could easily pass for a straight guy. They have no idea how much harder it is to be in the closet; especially for someone who loves his freedom so much like I do.

The best part of the night wasn’t my revelation, though.

Later on, after the drinking session had started, one of the neighborhood kids (20 years old, college stude, expressive eyes, totally cute) started flirting with me. Of course, I reciprocated.

It wasn’t long before we were giving each other quick pecks on the cheeks when we were whispering to each other. We were holding hands under the table. And he was telling me that he was "game" at anything.

Then, he asked me if I could buy a pack of cigarettes. I said sure, as long as he would come with me. So we borrowed a car and off we went to buy cigarettes.

While we were on our way, he asked me if I could buy some roasted chicken at Andok’s, too. I didn’t see anything wrong with that. After all, we were running low on pulutan.

I don’t really remember what we were talking about, but I do remember that I was holding his hand while I was driving. I was also giving him quick kisses while driving (it was really great that this was in the wee hours of the morning and there weren’t any cars on the road anymore).

I asked him if he likes me. He said yes, I asked him why and he said it was because I was funny.

Funny.

He then asked me if I liked him back. I said yes. Then he asked me if he could borrow 200 bucks. I laughed.

That’s funny.

I guess a typical gay guy wouldn’t think twice of sparing a cute boy with a couple of hundred bucks to get in his pants. Unfortunately for him, I’m not a typical gay guy.

Times like those, I am so grateful for whatever god is out there for giving me quite a good head on my shoulders.

I’m not being hypocritical about this. I mean, sure I have paid a couple of guys for sex before. But that was my decision. And it was their job. There was no false pretense in the beginning and it was essentially a business transaction.

It really bugs me when young boys make milking cows of some gay guys who were stupid enough to think that there would be no other way for them to get a cute boy but to pay them.

I know the game. I used to be that young boy, too. Been there, done that. Being on the receiving end of the offer, though, really makes it a full circle for me.

The really unfortunate thing about all this is that I really liked the guy up until he brought up the money thing. I have a lot of deal breakers for guys I go out, or thinking of goint out with. This goes high up the list.

The really funny thing about all this is that even though I don’t look like your typical gay guy, once these boys realize that I am gay, they automatically think that I would behave just like a typical gay guy that they could play on their hands.

The really frustrating thing about this is that I know he’s a good guy deep down. And I really like him. He just made the wrong offer to the wrong person.

I guess I’d still hang out with him. Maybe not on a date, but as friends. After all, we live in the same neighborhood and we have to be friendly with the neighbors, right?

But man, would I be pissed if he asks me for money again.

I was feeling lousy last weekend. I had a terrible cough and my sinuses were acting up again. Aside from that, I was still having some muscle pains from the "workout" I had the weekend before.

Then my mother texted that she’d be coming to visit my sister in Quezon City on Saturday and that they’d be shopping in Divisoria on Sunday. She wanted to know if I could come, too. I said I couldn’t. I knew she was disappointed, but what could I do? I was feeling like I was coming down with something.

Saturday morning, I stayed a bit longer in the office so I could wait for the mall to open (I work nights and usually get off at 6AM). When it was finally 10AM, I walked to the mall and into my favorite spa. I figured I needed a relaxing massage to take care of the muscle pains, and probably even the coughs. It worked wonderfully on the muscle pains but not much on the coughs. I slept for almost 20 hours!

I woke up Sunday morning feeling better. So I decided to join my mother and my sister in Divisoria. I got there just before noon and I found out that my brother and his girlfriend were also there. I knew my dad would be so jealous because he wasn’t in this family outing. He never got out much after the stroke anyway.

So there we were, seated at the foodcourt of 168 Mall talking about stuff… mostly teasing my sister about her finances. My sister was the youngest in the family. Well, the youngest alive sibling anyway. (I had another younger brother who died when he was only 3 days old. Some congenital defect, the doctor said.) She just graduated in April and just started with her first job, which pretty much sucked when it comes to salary.

I’d been supporting most of her living expenses when she was still in college and she kinda have this idea that I’m still not through supporting her. Well, it’s fun to slam her down with a "no" and a lecture on financial management. Not that I’m an expert, but at least I’m not in deep debt shit like a lot of people I know.

She was trying to convince me to buy her a pair of jogging pants, running shoes and a box of Fitrum or worse, Xenical. She said I needed to buy her those things if I wanted her to lose weight. I thought starving her would do the job quite as easily… with less expenses. Haha!

I dunno what’s gotten into her lately. I mean, she never really felt uncomfortable being fat. She had been fat since she was a baby. She was never thin at any point in her life. I tried to get her to diet with me before, but she simply didn’t have the discipline when it came to food. Once when I implored her about dieting and getting fit so that she could finally have a boyfriend, she just told me that if she gets a boyfriend because she was thin, what would happen if she gets fat again?

Good point.

Truth to tell, my sister is quite beautiful. She’s darker than me or my brother, but she is also a tall girl. If she didn’t have all that excess baggage, she would’ve been quite stunning. But… she’s huge and she looked intimidating. If only boys would get past her size, they’d find a really sweet, smart girl beneath all that. Then again, guys her age are quite stupid and superficial anyway. And my sister’s standards are quite high.

My brother, on the other hand, seemed like he finally met the one. We had a running joke before in the family that when my brother introduces his girlfriend to any one of us, that means he’s getting ready to break up with her. This was different. He had already introduced her to the family months ago… and they’re still together. Worse still, he wouldn’t go anywhere without her. And I mean ANYWHERE. He wouldn’t even visit our parents without her tagging along… which is quite sweet, actually.

He said he wanted to marry her. But for some reason, she’s not ready to get married yet, which is too bad coz my father really wanted to have grandchildren already and we all know I can’t give them that unless I’d find a way to get men pregnant.

My brother was the very first person I came out to. I know that a lot of times, I give him a hard time. But when it comes down to it, he’s the only person in the whole world that I would trust to back me up at anything. When I finally get married, I’d want him up there with me as my Best Man. I wouldn’t ask anybody else.

I guess my brother did a lot of growing up when he met his girlfriend. For one, he got himself a job that pays him regularly. And I think he thinks a lot about the future already.

Looking at my brother and his girlfriend, I felt jealous… envious. They are so sweet together. And I guess, at this point in my life, I feel like I want that, too. I want that feeling of security… that look of content that they have on their faces.

I guess my mother felt happy having all her children shopping with her. It’s been quite a while since we’ve all done this together. My mother is such a bargain hunter. She was the one who introduced all of us to the wonderful world of Divisoria. She’s primarily the reason why I could never get myself to buy 2,000-peso jeans or 1,000-peso shirts or 4,000-peso shoes. I mean, if I could get 10 jeans for 2,000 bucks, why would I wanna buy just 1?

I guess she rubbed off on all of her children. My brother, my sister and I were always more comfortable scourging the streets and malls of divisoria for a good bargain than shopping in the stores of Shangrila or Powerplant. My sister knows where the best cheap clothes are. And I could always rely on my brother to know where the cheap gadgets are. I know where the best pirated DVDs are. Haha!

Once, my sister was bragging to me about the new cellphone she got for free when she subscribed to Globe. As a retort, I told her I could buy a touchscreen cellphone right then with the money I had in the bank. She just laughed at me and told me I would never spend that much on a cellphone. She was right. I really wouldn’t.

My mother has endured a lot of hardship in her life. She didn’t get a lot of breaks. But she took on the role of the family’s breadwinner head on. My dad helped her as much as he can. But let’s face it, between my mom and my dad, it’s my mother who wears the pants in the family. She’s simply a lot smarter and stronger.

I wish I could say I helped her during the harder times… but I was such a knucklehead and I messed up pretty badly more than a few times. But no matter how much I messed up before, she was always there to support me. She doesn’t really say much. She’s not touchy-feely or anything like that. But I just know that if I do mess up again in the future, she would still be there for me.

She asked me for the hundredth time what happened to the house I was buying. I told her that I was still waiting for the notice of approval for my housing loan before I could fix up the place. She told me to hurry it up so that she and my father could go down and stay with me for a while. I joked that that would definitely make my almost non-existent sex life even worse. She said that my dad feels a little cramped being at home all the time.

My dad was back home, still recovering from his stroke a couple of years ago. He’s getting better. He could walk now, but he still gets exhausted easily. I know my dad never wanted to end up this way. But he really had it coming. He used to drink and eat as if there was no tomorrow. He didn’t care that his blood pressure was shooting up most of the time. And he even once said that we shouldn’t worry because if he gets a stroke, he would make sure that he dies so that we wouldn’t have to take care of a vegetable. Well, he didn’t die, did he?

I guess I’m still a little angry at him. But he’s got a lot of shit to deal with. And I don’t mean physically.

I’ve always thought that my father drank a lot because he knew he lost the pants when my mom had to take over being the head of the family. He used to be the provider when he was an OFW in Saudi Arabia. After he got back, he opened up a restaurant which my grandmother managed and operated, so he still got to be the boss of the family. But when my grandmother died and pretty much left the restaurant in deep management shit, he had to sell it and he had to find a new job.

He did get a job as a municipal employee… which really didn’t pay much. And since he doesn’t have a lot of skills, unlike my mother, he had to step back and let my mother take over.

I know it wasn’t easy for my father. He grew up in a world where men were men. I know he got a lot of shit from his harebrained friends about our living situation. So I guess he dealt with his emasculation by drowning himself in booze; mostly free booze coz his boss or friends usually pay. Then, he grew bigger and bigger… he ate more and more greasy food (tastes really great with booze)… and generally forgot about his health altogether.

He wasn’t the perfect father… but at least he tried. And after all, I was never the perfect son either. And he’s the only father I’ll ever have.

I guess I’m still pretty lucky to have these people for my family. I have always been proud of the way my parents brought me up. They never wanted me to be dependent on them forever. In fact, our deal before was they’re only responsible for me until I graduate and start my own life. They have always respected me as an individual and they have always valued my opinion. When my sister was deciding where to go to college, my parents were reluctant to send her to Manila or anywhere out of the province. I just told them that my sister wouldn’t get the education she deserved in one of those sorry excuse for a college that we have nearby and she wouldn’t learn about life if she had to stay close to everybody she knew her whole life. I told them firmly that I wouldn’t let them stunt my sister’s growth just because they’re afraid she’d mess up. They listened to me and my sister went to UP.

I know I never really say it to their faces, but I love my family to bits. They leave me alone when I needed space. They give me support when I’d been beaten down. They allowed me to fly on my own. And they let me know that I always have a place to come home to when the world becomes too hostile for me. They molded me into the man I am today and I will always be thankful for that.

I love you Nay, Tay, Cedric and CJ.

There were exactly 3 guys I cried over. Two of them, I didn’t really know very well and the third was the only real boyfriend I ever had.

I did cry over my roommate Don, but that’s mostly out of guilt and fear. Guilt of what I’d done to him… and fear that he’d tell on me. Don’t get me wrong… I loved Don. I wish I didn’t hurt him the way I did. But I was young and horny. And I was just glad he didn’t kill me back then (he could’ve coz he had a brown belt in judo aside from the fact that even though I was a couple of inches taller than him, I was just a skinny kid back then and he was already well-built).

I cried when guilt washed over me as he was crying over what I’d done to him. Yeah, yeah… I took advantage of his morning wood. I was 16, come on! Maybe a lot of you would think that it’s not a big deal… but it actually was. I mean, we both were virgins before I "raped" him. My first time might’ve been special for me because I had feelings for him, but his first time might have been really horrible. Aside from the fact that it wasn’t something that he wanted to happen, it happened with a guy… to think that he was totally straight!

Yeah… I’m a horrible person.

The real first time I cried over a guy was with Chris. His name was Randall Christian Arreola. He was born and raised in Guam. But when I met him, he was staying with his aunt in Seattle. Well, I never really met him in person. We met on the net… and we started a relationship in cyberspace.

See, before I met Chris, I never really thought of myself as goodlooking. My brother has always been the one with the looks. I’m the one with the brains. Back when we were kids, people would always gush at my brother and say how cute he was. Then they look at me and gush at how smart I was. It kinda stuck for a long time. I got comfortable with being smart. But for most of my life, I also felt ugly… or at the very least, I felt ordinary looking.

Chris changed that. We would chat and talk everyday, exchange pictures, and generally gush at each other. He would always call me gorgeous and he wouldn’t stop telling me how goodlooking I was. Eventually, I started to believe him. And I started to fall for someone I haven’t even seen in person.

It didn’t take long, though. Just like most cyber-relationships, it’s gotta turn physical soon before it progresses to something better. That’s where the problem lay. He lived in Seattle… and I was stuck in Manila. He soon began to see people that he can touch. And I also felt the need to have someone who was there with me physically.

It was hard when I called him to tell him that it was over. That we really couldn’t lie to ourselves that it would work out between us. We were just too fucking far away from each other.

After that phone call, I cried. It wasn’t a loud sobbing, can’t-really-talk-without-sniffing-and-choking kind of cry. It was more of an I’m-sad-and-I-need-to-get-this-off-my-chest kind of cry. But I cried… and then I moved on.

The next time I cried over a guy was really stupid. Just like Chris, I met Great (yup, his name is Great Ancheta) on the net. But unlike Chris, Great was someone I could actually see because he was just living and working in Makati.

So we got to know each other thru chat and thru the phone and finally made a date. We were supposed to meet at Makati Shang. But at the last minute, he chickened out on me. So I was stood up and I ended up joining a group of chatters who were having a grand EB at Zu. (This was 1998, so sue me!)

I still tried to see him after that. I even went as far as visitting him in his workplace. He never did come down to see me. Just gave me a lame excuse.

Finally, we were able to talk on the phone again. I don’t remember much what was said during the call. But the gist was that he wasn’t ready to have any sort of relationship with a guy… like he was still trying to hold on to the last thread of heterosexuality in him. I dunno if I believed him. All I know is that when he said whatever it was he said, I just felt like my heart was being squeezed of all the blood in it.

I bawled. Good thing I was alone because I was really crying rather loudly. But after that, I decided that Great is a great asshole who just led me on and then dropped me like a hot potato when I was getting too close for comfort. Then I moved on.

I met Bryan Vilar when I went to work for Jollibee. (I worked there for two weeks… managers were assholes… no big deal.) He was one of the crews and, together with a bunch of other crews, we rented a couple of rooms near the workplace.

The first time I saw him, I knew I wanted him. He was tall, fair, clean cut, gorgeous eyes, pouty lips… He was to die for. I never left his side.

It took us a couple of weeks of flirting (including the one time when he kissed me on the lips when he thought I was sleeping) before I was able to get into his pants.

It happened early in the morning. I had a mid-shift and he was on RD. All of our roommates were opening so we had the place to ourselves by 5AM. He was sleeping right beside me, so I just casually dropped my hand on his chest and slowly slid it down to his belly and rested it there. Then he held my hand and slid it further down to what I was really aiming for. And that was all the encouragement I needed.

Afternoon that same day, the same day I was fired at Jollibee for stealing some spaghetti and coke (I know, I know… it was pathetic), we talked about what happened between us. I know I should’ve been down for getting fired the way I did… but I was just too caught up with what happened between Bryan and me that I really couldn’t wipe the huge smile out of my face.

Anyway, Bryan said that we could be a couple when nobody else is around. I know I shouldn’t have agreed to that, but honestly, I was so into Bryan that time that he could talk me into doing anything and I’d gladly say it was my idea.

Bryan also had a girlfriend at the time, who made a really good cover for us. I also knew the girl and we were pretty close that time, too. I should’ve been guilty for cheating with Bryan, but like I said, I just wanted to be with him so much that I would do absolutely anything.

I remember seeing him being sweet to her… cuddling with her… I knew they weren’t having sex (he’s getting that from me - haha!), but it really ripped my heart out whenever I’d see him with her. But when he was with me, he made everything worthwhile.

I still remember the bus ride we had together… He liked sleeping when he travelled, and when he travelled with me, he slept on my shoulder while I had my arms wrapped around him. That feeling of comfort… knowing that he trusted me to protect him from anything… seeing his beautiful face sleeping peacefully against my shoulder… that feeling still lingers with me. I loved those bus rides. I would’ve given anything for us to stay there…. in that position… forever.

But it wasn’t meant to be. Soon enough, his friends got him drunk and he spilled the beans about us. Only, he made it sound like he was an unwilling victim and I just forced him into having sex with me. And the worst part is that everybody he told about it had told everybody else until it spread thru the whole town… my home town… where my parents and most of my relatives lived.

I was so angry that I broke up with him in the most hurtful way I knew how. I just went over to the Jollibee branch that he was working at the time, and asked one of the crews I knew to call him out. I told him that I needed the bag that he borrowed from me (we exchanged bags before because his was really no good and mine looked so much cooler, so naturally, he borrowed it). When he came and exchanged bags with me, I said "Salamat. At sya nga pala,split na tayo." And then I walked out without even looking back at him.

I spent the better part of the Summer of ‘99 crying my eyes out. I wouldn’t even talk to anyone. I stayed with my parents and I usually just get up before noon, cook lunch, watch TV until after midnight and then back to sleep. Sometimes, I would climb up the roof in the late afternoons, lie there and just cry. Not even my parents could get me to talk. I didn’t think they’d wanna hear about it anyway.

I’d always say that I’m over Bryan. And the truth is I am. I mean, I don’t have any feelings for him anymore. If I see him right now and he’s still as hot as he used to be (which I doubt), I’d probably ask him for another round for old time’s sake. But I wouldn’t wanna be with him again.

I am over the boy. What I’m probably not over with is the feelinig of betrayal that he left me.

After Bryan, I’ve had some pretty intense feelings for a few other guys. But for some reason, I couldn’t get myself to cry over them.

I didn’t cry when Choc rejected me several times. I didn’t cry when I finally realized that Jay would never look at me the way I wanted him to look at me. And even more recently, I didn’t cry when I finally let go of my feelings for Mickey.

Have I become emotionally frigid? Did my experience with Bryan scarred me so badly that I couldn’t even open myself up to feel grief? Or even worse, is the reason why I’ve never really been into any relationships after Bryan because I’ve put up a lot of complex emotional barriers to shield myself from the pain that total involvement could cause me? Am I really that screwed up?

There had been a lot of proposals in the past few years. A couple of years ago, I met Derek and we played around some. He was really sweet. He told me he loved me. I just smiled at him.

Before Derek, there was Jason who adored me but joked that I might have moved on from him already by the time I got my own apartment. He was right. A few months ago, I met Warren in a bathhouse and he was genuinely interested in it being more than just sex. And just over a week ago, I met Paolo in the same bathhouse and he propositioned that we become monogamous. Paolo said he would take care of me and that he would love me. I didn’t believe him.

Why couldn’t I believe them? Any of them?

I would constantly complain to my friends about my state of being single and being alone and lonely, but when some guy comes into mylife and expresses his interest in me, I go in the other direction. And lately, why do I always seem to fall for guys whom I know wouldn’t want me back?

Have I been sabotaging my own happiness all this time?

I’ve let go of a lot of great guys and I don’t really know why. At the time it seemed like my reasons were valid. Now I think I was just being stupid.

Me and my stupid standards.

I would gladly blame Bryan for all the shit I’ve been through… for being a wreck when it comes to relationships… for thinking that I should have someone better than him as my next boyfriend. But the truth is I can’t blame him for that.

When I was with Bryan, my feelings for him clouded my judgment a lot. I thought he loved me, too. I thought he would really fall in love with me eventually. I knew, on some level, he cared about me. But I should’ve listened to him when he told me he couldn’t be in love with me.

I’ve never really been good at handling relationships. Maybe because I’d never had that much practice. I’ve never been in a relationship wherein we are both in love with each other with the same intensity. It’s either I’m in love or they’re in love with me, but never both. Frankly, I wouldn’t know what to do if I fall in love with someone and he falls in love back at me. But I’d like to try that. Could be a fun adventure.

As for my standards… they’re stupid and childish. Anyone who’s truly in love with me is way better than Bryan.

I’ve held myself back for a long time. I just wanna experience all that again. I wanna be happy and contented and complete. I wanna be able to cry again. Mostly, I wanna be able to feel again. I want to be touched by another man again… like no other man has touched me… pun intended.

Last Wednesday, one of my direct reports, asked me if he could go home early because he wasn’t feeling well. I told him that he needs to secure a permit from the clinic before I could let him go. Then he said that he was okay physically, but emotionally, he was a wreck. I tried to ask him what was wrong but he just said that it was too painful to discuss. So, since I knew he wouldn’t be able to do his job anyway, I let him leave.

After he left, I found out that the guy he was especially close to just got married that day. It wasn’t announced or anything and he was really taken by surprise even though it was kind of cliche since the girl was already pregnant. Still, it wreaked havoc on his emotional well-being.

His rest days were Thursday and Friday and he admitted that he cried for most of the time… and then some on the weekend.

A couple of years ago, my friend Jay, for whom I was having intense unrequited feelings at the time, asked me a question that I really couldn’t answer:

Why do I keep on hoping that he would return my feelings when I knew that he was straight as an arrow?

My direct report visited my new flatmate in our apartment last Monday and they were talking about the guy. Naturally, having quite a bit of experience in the topic, I butt in.

I asked him almost the same question that Jay asked me before. I said, "Why did you keep on hoping? Did you really think he was gonna leave the girl for you?"

Then my flatmate said something almost as cliche as a guy marrying his pregnant girlfriend… He kept his hopes up because the guy said he also had feelings for him. Although, he also added that he didn’t want to tolerate it.

It was a classic yoyo game. That is, the guy becomes distant when he comes too close, then pulls him back just when he starts to try and move on. Almost the same as how Mickey used to play me.

It got me thinking about my own situation. I’m not exactly in the same shit as he anymore. But I still remember how I was both miserable and happy at the time… Miserable when Mickey tossed me aside, and happy when he went out of his way for me. But even when I was happy, there was always this nagging feeling that he really wasn’t mine… never have been and never will be. He has a rather beautiful girlfriend who, as far as I know, is totally devoted and loyal to him. And they’ve been together for years! The history alone is hard to contend with.

I’m practically over Mickey. His proximity and his smile doesn’t have the same intense effect on me as before. But it still doesn’t mean that I’m immune to him. His smile could still brighten up my day. And I’m pretty sure that if he tells me today that he has feelings for me, I’d still slide right back into falling for him.

So, what is it really? Why do guys like us keep the hope alive even when the situation is already hopeless? Do we unwittingly turn into masochists in the name of love? Are the few moments of guilt-ridden happiness really worth all the pain and suffering that unrequited love eventually brings us? Are we really that stupid?

My direct report asked me what he could do to hasten his emotional recovery. I told him that he could cry his eyes out and watch a lot of romantic-comedy movies. However, I knew that crying and losing yourself in fantasies wouldn’t really do the trick. Only time can heal. It had taken me months before I could treat Mickey just like one of the guys. I moved to a new city before I got over Jay. Getting over someone you never really had is not that easy… because you’d always wonder what could have been… what might have been… if only…

When I came in tonight for work, I saw Mickey again and he gave me the most brilliant smile. Then it hit me…

It wasn’t really about him, or Jay, or Choc for that matter. It was about me. I kept on hoping not because I’m a masochist or I’m stupid. I kept my hopes up because I needed to protect myself from my own insecurities… because I didn’t wanna think I was unloveable… because I had to believe that they would see me for who I am and still fall in love with me.

I know that hasn’t gone well for me so far, but I gotta believe. I have to believe that somebody I’m in love with can actually love me back. I have to believe that I can be loved.

We all have to believe.

When the Training and Quality team, to which I’m part of, went to a team building (a.k.a. weekend getaway at the beach), I decided to throw caution in the air and just enjoy myself.

Sure, I was hoping that Mickey (there, finally said his name… haha!) would come, but he couldn’t coz he was busy with his event. But then again, it’s not like anything’s gonna happen if he came. I’d probably have been disappointed in any case.

So I thought, to hell with it. I’m just gonna enjoy the weekend.

And I did.

It really didn’t matter that most of us came straight from our shift, then got totally bored with more than 6 hours of road trip, and then plunged right into one challenge after another (I really wasn’t doing any of the challenges… but looking at them just got me so exhausted… haha!). It was like we have this pool of energy that just wouldn’t drain.

After all the challenges and a little time swimming in the beach and in the pool, we ate dinner and had that cry-fest (much like a retreat). And then the fun really began.

After about 3 beers, I became relaxed enough to mingle around and talk with some of the newbies. I was introduced to this guy, and although he wasn’t really my type, I must admit he was cute. (In fact, our manager has a crush on him… haha!)

So, since I got nothing good to do anyway, I went ahead and flirted with the guy. He was cool about it even though he was totally straight. We danced with the group and I made sure that I was close to him all the time… it was fun trying to make him uncomfortable as hell… haha!

However, I wasn’t totally oblivious of the fact that he wanted to spend most of his time beside this girl. Truth is, there is so much sexual energy between them that it’s probably strong enough to power the whole country for a decade! So, seeing that I was never really gonna get anywhere, I decided to butt in and talk to him about it.

See, I wouldn’t be bugging him about it if it weren’t for the fact that he’s married and has a 3-year old daughter. Like a good reporter that I was back in my college days, i wanted to get his story…

And I got the full load.

Just as I thought, he wasn’t even aware that both of them were giving out the signals. At first, he said they were really just friends… nothing more. I wouldn’t agree. After all, there were supposed to be 3 of them in their little group: him and 2 girls. He was quite friendly with both girls… but he looks and acts differently with her.

Then he began telling me about his marital problems. He said he just wanted to get away from that for a while and just enjoy himself. Then, the unthinkable happened… he cried.

Seems that my hunch was right. Because of the problems he was having with his wife (believe me, there are a lot!), he was finding himself growing apart from her… and at the same time, he was growing closer and closer with the other girl. He said he is happy whenever he is with the girl… she makes him happy. His wife just gives him problems.

He admitted that he loved his wife so much… but lately, the girl is slowly finding her way deeper and deeper into his heart (those weren’t his actual words… but you get what i mean).

And with his situation (i.e., miserable with wife, happy with girl), it’s easy to see where this is going. So I told him.

I couldn’t even begin to imagine how he must have been feeling. He’s married to someone he truly loved but makes him miserable… and he met a wonderful girl who makes him happy but he couldn’t be with. I haven’t even had a committed relationship in my life!

And maybe that is why…

Maybe I’m afraid that what starts out as a wonderfully passionate love would eventually make me miserable and emotionally empty. Maybe I’m afraid that once I commit myself to someone, then someone better would come along and I would be in so much despair over someone I couldn’t be with because I’m already with someone else. Maybe I’m scared of being played by fate.

It’s always easy to tell someone else to just follow their heart and do whatever makes them happy. But seeing him that night, totally confused by his feelings… wanting to be a good man and do the right thing but longingly looks at another woman… I knew that there was no easy answer.

Decisions are easy when you don’t consider other people’s feelings and well-being. But when you care about your family and other people close to you, deciding what to do is not as clear as day and night. There is simply no right or wrong thing… it’s all in between. One way or another, someone’s bound to get hurt. The choice isn’t really between right and wrong… it’s who will get hurt in the process.

I must admit that I’m really growing weary with these unreciprocated feelings for Mickey. And that’s a good thing. Coz when I finally get rid of it, I could move on… Piece of cake.

It’s not that easy for him. He has to decide whether to leave his wife and daughter… or never find out what it would be like to be with this other girl.

It’s a decision I’m glad I don’t have to make.

Lately, I’d only been rambling about this foolish, unrequited feelings for someone I don’t even have the courage to name in my blogs. I know it’s getting boring… even I am getting bored with it.

Gotta face the facts… it’s never gonna happen. Might as well give up, right?

Lately, though, I’m getting this strong urge to tell him exactly how I feel about him. But after we had lunch together a couple of hours ago, I figured after all the loving stare that I’d been giving him all the time, this might be a big shock to him. I also figured out why it’s quite difficult for me to get laid, unlilke some of the fa9$ I know.

It started innocently enough… we were talking about how our bellies are getting bigger by the minute. Then, it went to talking about going to the gym. I said I’d rather just buy a couple of dumbles and some weights and just lift at home. He said it’s better to go to the gym coz seeing other lifters would encourage me to do my exercises. I told him that seeing other lifters would only encourage me to exercise my eyes. To which he replies, "Ay oo nga… nakalimutan ko… Hehe!"

He forgot. I’d been hanging out with him in the past few months and he forgot that I’m gay. What if instead of the gym talk, I told him that I’d fallen for him? That might’ve come as a total shock! Then I realized, he’s not just oblivious about my feelings for him; he’s oblivious of the fact that I’m gay… even though that’s the first thing I told him when we started hanging out.

Now I’m thinking, maybe this is the reason why I’m not getting laid as often as I should. A lot of people just don’t take me for a gay person… which is funny coz I never really talk about girls at all. I don’t even give girls a second look… well, unless they look familiar and I’m thinking about where I met them.

I look at cute guys. I stare at sexy men. I check out guys’ butts. How in the world could I be straight?

Sometimes, I think, maybe I should wiggle my butt a little when I walk. Or wear makeup. Or talk in a softer voice. Or limp my wrist. Or flip my hair… well, not that… my hair isn’t long at all. You know, just be a 90dd4mn  f4990t. But just thinking about it makes me wanna laugh my @$$ off.

I can’t. It’s just not natural for me.

This is me. I may look straight… but I’m gay and I’m proud of it. I sv<k d!<k. I fv<k @$$.

"I’m here! I’m queer! Get used to it!" - Jack

Lately, my cellphones have become quite useless to me.

I have two mobile phones from two different providers. Both are postpaid subscriptions. And both seem to be nothing more than a way to extend my work when I’m home or elsewhere.

The latest text message on one came in at 1AM yesterday from Myka, one of my direct reports, asking me details about the QA calibration I was asking her to attend. While the latest text message on my other phone is just some lunatic who wants to have phone sex.

I used to have tons of messages coming in almost every minute of the day. Sure, most of them were forwarded messages or corny jokes, but still… at least some people actually cared enough to spend a buck for the messages they sent me. Or, considering the advent of unlimited texting, at least I was on their distro.

Now, there’s nothing.

I even miss the fv<k!ng ring tone I copied from someone’s cellphone because I haven’t heard it in more than 24 hours. Nobody’s calling. Nobody even bothers to text. What the hell is going on?!?

My sister only texts me if she needs money. My brother only texts me to notify me of his latest work which is being run on the TVs in Penshoppe stores, or if our sister is asking him for money and he doesn’t have any. My mother and father only texts me to ask if I’m planning to go visit for the weekend, or if my sister needs money and they don’t have any. None of them dares to ask if I’m seeing someone… or if I’m happy…

I’m 30 years old! Do they really think it’s normal that I don’t have anyone? Are they even interested about my lovelife, or the lack thereof, at all?

Even my friends rarely bother to make their presence felt. I miss them. The worse part is… I know they’re living their life… full and happy…

While I’m here… waiting for one fv<k!ng text message that never comes. Just one text message genuinely asking how I was… without any other agenda but to know how I’m doing… Just one text that’s all about me… nothing else but me…

And I wish it’d come from… him…

It’s always a bad feeling when you know you’re in a bad situation but you can’t help yourself get out of it. Not that you don’t want to… you just can’t.

I am miserable. But I can’t really blame anybody about it… nobody but me. I created this prison that I’m in right now. I wish I could break free but I’m afraid there’d be a lot more misery outside the prison.

Belle warned me about it. I didn’t give much attention. I told her I could handle it… I knew what I was doing. I couldn’t and I didn’t.

Turns out, after all these years of playing, I’m still a mediocre player in this game. I’m still the loser. I’m still the one waiting for a bit of attention. I’m still the one left hanging in the air. I’m still the one hoping… wishing… to be loved back. I’m still the one wondering why I keep on falling for the wrong person… why I couldn’t just fall for the guy who wants to be with me so badly… why I want somebody who couldn’t, wouldn’t want me back.

People around me asks me often if there’s something between us. I tell them the truth… there really is nothing there. At least not from him. I know that. I just don’t wanna believe it.

I’m still hoping that someday, somehow, he’d see me the way I see him… that he’d look at me the way I look at him… that one day, enlightenment will come to him and he’d realize how much he wants me. Then we’ll be happy.

I picture him knocking on my door and telling me how much he misses me. Then he would hold me and beg me not to let go. He would ask me to take him… to make him mine.

In reality, I’m the one who needs a wake-up call. He plays me like a yo-yo. Pushes me away when I’m getting too close… pulls me closer when I’m starting to get away. And it’s fv<k!ng frustrating!

I need to get away from this web… before I get totally liquified, sucked and get eaten alive by my own frustrations. But he won’t let me. I’m stuck. Ironically, I was the one who created the web in the first place.

It was me… all me…

Have you ever really exposed your true self to anyone? I mean, you know, have you let anyone know who you really are without even the tiniest hint of a lie or any bv11$h!t?

It’s rather difficult, isn’t it? You can try. But there’s always something you just have to keep, some things you just have to downplay, and some things you just have to exaggerate.

It’s not necessarily deliberate. And it’s not necessarily bad either. It’s really just human nature to put your best foot forward. But it’s also human nature to want to be able to tell someone everything… and wish that that someone wouldn’t judge you and would still like you even after he saw the monster in you.

The thing is, you don’t really tell somebody everything about yourself because the more you expose yourself to someone, the more power that someone has over you.

That’s my fear as well.

Truth is… I’ve liked you since the first time I saw you. Sure, you were a little too pa-cute, but you’re smile could make make a dark day turn bright. It’s your smile that took my breath away.

And I never really forgot your smile.

It was Monday night when I first saw you. You and your fellow trainees were misinformed about your training schedule. It was supposed to start on Tuesday because the training team had the strat-planning the weekend before. I was sort of a bit vulnerable that day because I just got rejected the night before. There were almost 30 trainees that day. But your face was the only one I could remember.

I don’t really hang on to rejections for very long. I’ve learned long ago that it’s really got nothing to do with desirability or attractiveness… it’s all about chemistry. Some people just mix together well and others don’t.

I made all the excuses in the book just so i could visit your class. Just so I could see you. I didn’t hang out for long, though. But it’s not because I didn’t want to.

On the third week of your training, I was already assigned in Lipa. I couldn’t say I missed you, though. Truth is, my attention was getting tugged in a lot of different directions. Haha!

It didn’t mean I forgot about you, though. I didn’t. Your trainers always gave me a full account of your progress. They knew i liked you.

Remember the day you got certified? You were supposed to visit Belle, right? But then the plans fell through. You have no idea how disappointed I was that day. So disappointed that I drank with the trainees until all 6 Grandma and 2 Screw Driver mixes were gone.

A week later, you finally came to visit. I knew you came to visit your trainer, Belle. But you ended up stuck with me. That was actually "the plan". What I wasn’t planning on, though, was that a few drunk trainees would stay behind as well. That almost ruined the night for me. But it still ended up with you and me talking by ourselves. And it was wonderful.

Then, you came back the next night to keep me company. And we talked till past 1AM. I was in heaven.

The thing is, all the time that we were talking, you constantly said that you were straight… and that the two things you loved the most are cars and women. I heard you… but i wasn’t really listening. i didn’t want to. I wanted to believe that you weren’t really straight. That I just needed to make you realize that you weren’t straight.

The next weekend you weren’t able to visit. You said your girlfriend was sick, but you said you’d try to drop by. You didn’t. I saw about 6 episodes of Supernatural and a cheesy teen movie waiting for you. And I was so jealous.

Realization always hurts bad when it hits. You’d never really look at me the way I want you to look at me. You’d never really like me the way I want you to like me.

I wasn’t able to sleep well that night. All I could think about was how much i wanted you to be there with me… how much I wanted to see your smile… how much I wanted to hear your laugh… how much I wanted to tell you these things that would probably never leave my mouth.

I like you. I like you a lot. And I want you. I want you so much. And I wish that we could be together.

But you’d never hear me say that. What’s the use? I probably won’t hear the things I want to hear anyway…

I’d probably never hear you say it.