Guy: Hey Kiddo, no pun intended here, but are your stories real? Did you really write from your own experiences?
Kiddo: (Feigning indifference) Honestly, I also cannot believe that those things happened to me but they did.
Guy: (Quite proudly) But I’m goodlooking, and you’re … common. I don’t understand.
Kiddo: (Sensing an insecure troll lurking inside the guy) I don’t know about what you do, but wherever I go I make sure I am myself, always.
Guy: (Crickets chirping) ……
Yeah, I know it’s the love month and I’d bet my eyeballs that you were expecting to see one of my infamous listings of zany what to dos for that special day. This time, I beg to differ and opt to offer you a piece of myself. Unbeknownst to many, just recently, I thought I found THE ONE, only to realize that he was another guy’s THE ONE, although it was tumultuous learning experience. Let’s refer to him as BBoy. BBoy came from the place where the infamous Death March started. Little did I now that I’d be in small version of it with me as the willing participant. If only I knew what was in store for me when I met him that fateful day, I might have been spared of the 2nd day of reckoning of my life. Every day I went near him was a march towards heartbreak. I was disillusioned and I thought he was THE ONE.
I met him online in one of those days that I tried to squeeze in some online time in between shifts. I thought it was just some harmless texting acquaintance wherein you were just trading “what’s up?” messages. Before long we were already talking about more personal stuff that I began to wonder if there was someone at the other line who longed for love, like myself.
Months passed and were talking about finally seeing each other and were very comfy with each other’s personalities. I knew he was this cynical person who believed in love whose views were tarnished by a very bad experience. I was coming out as the clean slate, I thought I could share some of my sunshine with him. He knew I was this fluffy optimist, who believed in the power of love. So much for that. Since we obviously had different personalities, we sometimes clashed resulting in several days of not talking; until eventually one gave in and apologized, until I got tired of it and told him I wanted some time out and meet other guys. I didn’t know that I cooked my own goose.
The holidays came and I greeted him with one curt message and he replied back rather stiffly. We started talking again, but I knew there was a marked change. It seems that there was already something which is occupying his time. Have I met my end, or is my mind just playing games with me? Later on, I learned that he has already gone back to Manila and in 3 days time has caught up with an old acquaintance, falling for the guy in the process. The guy, who I have already dated myself, is a known player. Naturally, his feelings were rebuffed and for some comfort, he came to the most dependable person who never left, good ol Martha (me). I was kinda disapoointed that another guy already stole his heart, but being the optimist that I am, I decided to fight for the chance that he might see mein a different way.
He came at a time that I was having a dryness in my literary craft and work was turning up shit whatever I do. As he was due to return to his province that fateful Friday, he asked me to distract me, so we just talked nonsense. Then, out the blue he asked me to go with him. I was surprised that I said yes without batting a mascaraed eyelash. There was this inner voice that convinced me that I must do something crazy and must take risks if I do want to get some of the things I want. I thought, maybe, just maybe, if I go with him on this trip I’d be able to make him see me as that person that he will love.
Our days in his idyllic and secluded hometown as could easily be in my life’s top 10. His parents were accommodating and I never felt more appreciated. It was a full 3 days cooped up in his room, either were talking, laughing or having sex. On the third day I knew what I wanted and decided to tell him how I felt. He said we should take things slowly and he doesn’t want to rush things. I smelt a rat somewhere but I was in love and delirious and didn’t know that I was already standing directly on top of a cesspool cover which is ready to collapse. He assured me that we’d see each other back in the city and would date and get to know each other more. I went back to Manila and he stayed behind to take care of some family business.
The following day, was the crescendo of my death march. He never talked to me again. The whole day was silent without even a hint of his existence which is very different from the previous scenario. I was uptight at work like a tightly-wound up yarn ready to unravel. It was a struggle and I had to keep a straight face. Talking to my bff at work didn’t help. When I went home I was like a blank hunk of nothing. As I neared our house I ran to, eager to reach my room. As I entered my bathroom everything came to me in one disturbing slideshow. Taking me with him was part of the distraction he asked; whenever were intimate he kissed me BUT he never hugged me back; he still has feelings for that other guy AND if he really had a thing for me he didn’t have to think things through
Reality hit me like a pitcher of cold water as it would a participant in a Miss Icy T-shirt contest. One by one the teardrops fell, and soon I was sobbing. I let it all go. I cried for my disappointments, for the failed relationships, my failed dates, for him. I had all the reasons to hate him, because I felt used but I felt that I did have a part in it. As I wailed, my whole being wailed with me, asking for retribution, asking God if I have already endured pain to see relief, if I already had suffered enough that somehow, tomorrow, maybe tomorrow I’d be happier. I never thought that unrequited love could be so painful. I had so much love to share to BBoy and yet he chose to pine over that other guy who doesn’t seem to mind him at all. A twisted love triangle if you would ask me.
As the winds slowed down and the eye of the storm passed, I had the sense to call in the cavalry. A dear friend provided comfort and before long he was also cryng with me until I had nothing more to give out the tears stopped. I waited for at least 3 days before finally talling BBoy that I’m leaving for good and that I realized that he was not THE ONE and I had to go and find him. All he said was I’m such a spoiled drama queen and I can do whatever I please. That time I knew it was really over, or was there ever anything between us in the first place. My 2nd death came and some came to feast on my corpse. A jilter former suitor offered to take me and give me tha commitment I have been longing for, but I’d prefer to be alone than be with someone I really cannot love, despite being the perfect guy to be with. I know loving on will be another long process for me, but I have already started to get up.
This experience taught me that everyone is an amateur when it comes to love. There are no secret ingredients, no foolproof formula, no expert advice. All of us are like clueless travelers in very wide unpredictable desert where the oases are blissful, the days could be mercilessly scorching, and the nights brutally cold.
However despite these truths I have learned, I march on, never giving up. I will find him, THE ONE and I know he will make the long wait all worth it. He will laugh at my silliness. He will hold my hand as we walk around the zoo. He’d eat everything I would cook. He’d snuggle next to me on a cold rainy day. He’d lovingly remind me to clean my room and clear out my clutter. He help me pick out a new pet. Among other things, he will love me in behalf of all those whom I loved but never loved me in return.