Rain

I was at the gym this afternoon when right in the middle of my pull up routines strong winds and heavy rain, without much of an announcement, lashed outside. It was a beautiful sight from the glass wall of the building I was in that time. I stopped what I was doing and moved closer to the glass wall so that I could have a full view of Shaw Boulevard and the area of Shangrila Plaza. Everything was at a standstill, rendered static by the beauty of one of the first strong thunderstorms of the monsoon season.

For a brief moment, my thoughts and the melancholy that they inspire were arrested, as they were obviously dwarfed by the force of nature raging outside.

Back to the drawing board

It takes courage to admit to oneself that everyone has left and that the only thing to do right now is to go back to the drawing board, find out what has gone wrong, assess the damage, and see what can be salvaged and be included in the next venture. And perhaps attempt to live the remaining years of my 30s more meaningfully and productively.

I simply cannot fix a broken system, and that’s myself. I cannot go on doing what I have been doing these past ten years as all I see were casualties and hurt in the aftermath.

I dread graduating from this period of my life full of regrets and bitterness and causing the same ill-feelings in other people.

I’ll workout more often (and add more days I spend on cardio) and not to think of using my gains in the gym to bang the next guy.

I’ll be with my cat and play with him because I know he needs me.

I’ll value all my relationships–family, friends, and the next person I shall decide to love–because they are all I have in this life that’s bound to be catastrophic in the end. I will be spending the quiet days with them, without thinking that these days could be better.

I’ll take care of my health because no amount of insurance will give me a feeling of security that tomorrow I’ll feel good as I feel today.

I’ll make more friends not because I plan to go to bed with them but because no amount of books read will come close to actually being with a real, breathing person and the depth of character he will provide me. Because I need a community of brothers and sisters whose only bond that unites us is our desire to be in the company of each other.

I’ll think less of what I think and think more of how to be in the moment and enjoy the minutes that I will have no way of getting back.

I’ll try to see love less as a romantic. This time I’ll view it as a realist, that there is no one perfect partner. That as a couple we are both going to know things about each other that will shock, gross out, even hate each other, but that we/I shall be forgiving and accepting of each other’s broken-ness. I’ll love better this time, not to be afraid to communicate my thoughts and feelings, and spend 2/3 of my time listening.

I shall get more sleep, not to be afraid to be left alone with my thoughts, and trust that things can get worse. To be thankful that I enjoy the simple joys of life because anytime fortune can change.

And maybe, I’ll write more this time.

Querido M.,

Dear M.,

The last month without you was a blur. I survive daily, thanking that Tumi is next to me, feeling sad that he has to live in a small space, asking himself what has become of the white man on whose lap he used to sleep when he was recovering from his operation.

In so many ways Tumi and I are very similar. The only difference is that he is a cat and there is no way for him to articulate to me the extent of his sadness. Or perhaps I am only projecting onto him what I feel now. But I can express better in writing things that I cannot say to you in spoken English because my sincere thoughts are masked by my pride, my disappointment, and my desire to appear strong in front of you. But I know I am vulnerable. I am so weak. I am barely holding it together.

And so I have to write this.

I am very sad, M.. Initially, I thought I will successfully get over you after a while, but you have left me so broken and so unable to move on. No amount of logic will persuade me that there is a better life in your absence, that being with someone with fewer issues and drama in life will make me happier. I always gravitate towards you because I know I will only feel joy and happiness with you around.

I’m writing this not because I want to convince you to reconsider me, not because I want you to change your mind (because I know nothing in this world will convince you to change your mind. Nothing.). I have come to know you very well despite the short amount of time we were together. Because I wanted to know you and understand you because I cared. I wanted to be your friend, your lover, your partner in life. And for this I know that your decision when we went to Baler is final.

But I hope you leave in your heart a small opening for me.

For the more than one year we were together, I know deep inside that what I had for you is real.

I have nothing to offer you, except my devotion and loyalty.

I certainly felt you loved me. That you cared for me. And those moments were the moments I felt the happiest. I cannot promise you the future, M.. We both do not know what will become of us. But I promise you my everyday, to decide to love you every day of my life that I am alive on this planet. I do not ask that you be perfect, M., because I love you for who you are, the imperfections and flaws included.

M., I want to take care of you, to make you happy until the very last days we spend together. I want to see you grow old, until your mind is unable to recognize me because I know your heart will. I’m crying while writing this letter because I never felt this kind of sadness in my entire life. Because I never felt love of this kind, this intense and pure.  

With all honesty, I do not know why I’m writing this. Perhaps I am kept alive by the hope that when C. decides to leave for good someday, you still have that bit of love for me. I am holding on to that hope. M., please allow me to have that small piece of love. I promise to be a better man, to be the best man for you. I’ll consciously close my mouth when I eat, I will wash my face when I get home, take a shower and shampoo three times a day, cook for you, exercise with you, not look at other guys, listen to everything you say, not argue with you, cum every time we fuck, not keep anything from you, take care of you, be more sensitive, be in the moment, not to eat fried food, be less sensitive to your sarcasm, be less sarcastic.

I love you very much, M.. That’s the only thing you cannot stop me from doing.

I cannot move on because I will not move on M..

I am so deep in this shit.

I love you.

John