Chuck. Bente-something anyos. Simpleng ginoo. Masscom graduate. SINGLE. Mga kwento at kaisipan na resulta ng matagal na pagtambay sa convenience store hawak ang isang basong Chuckie.
NOTE: I write R18 stuff. Beware.
I’ve grown used to being numb and callous when it comes to love. After a string of jerks, I said “that’s enough”. I called it quits. Accepted the fact that I’ll grow old alone, never to see my own happily-ever-after. Did it really dawn on me that I really am that hopeless? Maybe, at some point. Saying that I’ll eventually rendeszvous with that someone who holds my heart is like saying that interstellar travel is possible within my lifetime. Four years on, and I’m still queuing for my chance to be loved again. Not even a rebound dude/gal came. Not even someone who I can use as a jealousy tool. Am I lining up for nothing? I don’t know, but I’m not hoping either. Less expectations, less hurt. Maybe he/she doesn’t exist at all (and won’t). I wonder how it feels to be someone’s priority. That someone who’ll shower you with love and affection even at your most troubling times. I wonder. And if I die wondering, I won’t be surprised at all.
It was a hot, lazy afternoon. I’ve been doing nothing at home but play endlessly with tablet and read books over and over again. Lying on my tummy at one time, lying on my back at another. Sweat patches had formed on my pillow. My bedsheets smell exactly like me. Maybe this is what I get from sleeping shirtless. There’s nothing better to do but slack off when you’re trying to shy away from the real world and forget your earthly blues.
Well, I must admit that I haven’t really moved on. Seclusion is just one of my ways to cope with loneliness. But today, I felt a little different. I wanted to go out. So I took a quick shower, dressed up in simple white shirt and jeans, and I’m off. Wandering aimlessly at the wide promenades and bustling shops, crossing paths with him was the least of my concerns. It has been years since we last saw each other, at our high school graduation. We’ve lost contact since. Until today.
I was reluctant to call his attention so I kept an eye on him from a distance. In no time, he noticed me. There were the usual awkward smiles whenever you meet someone whom you haven’t seen in ages. The exchange of cordial handshakes, the good ‘ol bro hug. All these years, I didn’t tell him how much I like him. Love is too strong a word, so maybe I can say that I like him. Afterall, he doesn’t know this side of me.
We decided to have coffee. Caught up stories with him. How fast time flies. The last image I remember of him, he was this tall, slim kid in school uniform. Now he looks so smart and dignified with his crisp whitish-pink longsleeved shirt. When he stretched his arm so I can have a look at his precious gold watch, a surge of memories flooded back. I smelled him. He didn’t change his perfume. It was still that boyish, cool scent from his high school days cologne.
He offered me to take a ride in his car. I told him I didn’t want to go home yet so maybe I can still accompany him if he doesn’t mind. He didn’t. He asked me where do we want to go. Anywhere you like, I said. Without even thinking, I held his hand. This is where I wanted us to be. He didn’t resist. I continued my advances. Soon enough, his crisp light pink shirt was unbuttoned from the chest down. Our zippers wide open. My mouth wet with our saliva and his love juices.
Then, silence. We stared each other blankly. I helped him button up again. Still, no words were exchanged. Only a little smirk assured me that everything’s okay. I finally told him what I’ve been holding for so many years. I don’t just like him, I love him. Call me foolish for having said it so after what just transpired, but it was an honest feeling. My premature glee was shattered when he uttered these three words:
Sorry. I’m married.
Aanhin ko ang pagpapagal
Ito nama’y hindi magtatagal
Makita lang ang inyong mga ngiti
Sapat na upang pagod ay mapawi
Aanhin ko ang magdusa
Kung kapalit ay ligaya
Marinig ang inyong palakpak
Sa puso’y masayang halakhak
Ngunit alam kong ito’y panandalian
Maningning na kislap ng kasikatan
Daigdig ko ay kayo
Daigdig niyo ang mundo ko
Ang entabladong aking tahanan
Mababawi rin at mapapalitan
Kaya’t sana’y sa aking mga saliw
Alaala ko sa inyo’y hindi magmamaliw
Magsasara ang telon
Lalamlam ang mga ilaw
Maglalaho ang mga palakpak
Mababakante ang bulwagan
Salamat sa inyo at sa musika
Malimot man ako’y hindi alintana
Kahit man lamang sa awitin
Pagsasama nati’y sasariwain
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11. Last time you cried?
- I really can’t remember. But I think was about some guy. Hahaha.
36. Any bad habits?
42. Are you okay?
- I am, thank you. :)
He was unsuspecting. Standing tall in the queue for my ride home, he looked like any other college dude. Clad in a grey uniform, earphones snuck in his ear, he seemed to be mindless of the society around him. Standing only two persons apart, I was hoping to sit next to him and perhaps be a little naughty trying to feel his sides by intently sticking and rubbing my arms against his body.
However, I weren’t able to catch up with him. Once the van’s rear passenger door swung open, he quickly hopped aboard and sat at the very rear. It was supposed to be my targeted spot. That meant I won’t be able to sit next to him since I would be squeezed. Nevertheless, I copped out the very rear spot opposite him. Alas, I can still have him as an eyecandy.
Our vehicle started its journey. Amidst the glow of headlights on his face, his oriental features complement his fair tone. His thick hair, sideburns, and large built remind me of young heavyweight boxers for he looked like one. In no time, he fell asleep. His right pointing finger hooked on the door lock. I began to fell sleepy too. I closed my eyes, but I have another plan in mind.
I don’t know why I felt the urge to hold his hand. It’s plain crazy. I don’t even know if he’s straight or not. But as soon as I rested my eyes, I placed my fist near his. Slowly, our fingers started to rub. After some time, his finger let off the door lock and his hand dangled. I dropped mine as well. Pretty soon, our hands rubbed again. Even more. We felt each other’s fingertips.
Sensing. Our fingers start to sense each other. Was he thinking what I was thinking? Was he trying to say “hold my hand, please”? It was dark aboard the van. As I tried to open my eyes a little bit, I saw that he was still in a slumber and so are the other passengers. If we held hands, no one would even notice. In a finger’s snap, my senses were electrified.
He was unsuspecting indeed. He held my hand. He couldn’t stand the brushing of our fingertips. With one of his fingers, he slowly hooked one of mine. Then another. Until he completely held my hand. I tried to open my eyes to look at him. He still appeared to be sleeping. Or maybe he was reluctant to look at me to see if I was conscious on what we were doing. Maybe he was too. We woke-up at nearly the same time. Exchanged a few glances. And we parted ways without even saying a word.
I keep the pictures and drawings I’ve had of guys who were part of my life and left because they simply didn’t want me. There’s no use in discarding those mementos. No point in denying their existence. And the gallery is still growing…