Monday, June 8, 2020

Unread Pt1

It's odd to not miss you as much as I did before. Missing you was such a big part of me these past few years that it feels weird not thinking about you every time I am not preoccupied. I am not certain if I have fully accepted that you are no longer a part of my life. They did say you never get over losing someone. You just learn to live without them. Maybe this is one of the better days where that ball of ache in my chest is as its smallest.

I am no longer angry. Well, mostly sad about how things ended between us. Anger, after all, is just sadness pretending to be tough. I wanted it to be quick and painful but I guess you wanted it to linger. And linger it did for some time. Every waking hour was hell having left me without even a goodbye. I had so many questions. Mostly questioning myself if I gave too much, or too little. If I was enough, if I have loved you enough. But I realized there is no point in asking because there is no one to answer but my demons, and they don't really give anything of use to me.

I hope all days are like today. Remembering you, but not missing you. It feels nice.
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Sunday, May 10, 2020

Let Go Now

I don’t know what we had. I’m pretty sure it was something between too little and a lot of nothing. But it was something. 

I remember you begging. About three years ago. After breaking up a month before, I told you I needed to completely cut ties with you so I can properly mourn our mutual loss and move forward. But you begged me to stay. I was still in love with you so like a complete idiot, I agreed. It’d be hypocritical of me to say I didn’t hope that one day you’d realize I was worth the effort of upending your life, and running away with me. 

“Friends", we both said. Pitiful, to say the least. 

Fast-forward three years, look who’s left all alone. With the remains of something between too little and a lot of nothing. The child in me wants to throw a fit and demand I be given the same things I gave. Promises were made. Long ago. I can’t remember now. But people from the past who decided to stay in the past no longer owe us to keep their promises, do they? Just because you did and would do something for someone does not mean they would the same for you. I guess that’s what’s killing me. I led myself on and maybe part of it is my fault. But I am no child. I will not beg. If I didn’t beg then I surely won’t beg now. 

I will allow myself to accept my losses, grieve for a while and finally, let go. 
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Monday, November 4, 2019

A Different Kind of Heartbreak

A ping from an almost girlfriend.

"What is this time?", I muttered to myself.

"André, Ninoy's gone."

Ninoy was my best friend in high school.

"No. No." was all I could reply.

Dead on arrival. He suffered a massive heart attack he mistook for a heartburn earlier this morning. Meanwhile, I was happily railing a cute moreno twink stressed for his engineering board exam when he passed.

Ninoy is a good guy. Fuck. He was a good guy. Youngest in our batch and he sure acted like the bunso he was. Always ready with a corny joke, a hearty laugh and a dirty white good morning towel to wipe his sweaty-ass self with. He was part of our little all-male group addicted to playing chess. There was usually four of us, sometimes bigger but we always beat the crap out of everyone else playing chess so they would just watch. Out of the four, he was the most excitable and easiest to read because of his obvious tell. I remember the times he'd panic when he realized we saw through his strat and loudly complain as he eventually lost the game. We would play chess whenever we could. Breaks, lunchtime, before and after class. Heck, we were so into it that we would even play way past after school hours. Good times.

Ninoy was a smart guy. He was one of the four of us who passed UPCAT back then which was such a big deal for our humble public high school. He was actually the reason why I even went to college. He, together with these two volunteer teachers from UP Pahinungod, tracked me down (and I never took any high school friends home) and convinced me to enroll. See, we were broke as fuck then and I never had any hopes of going to college. He was the first and probably the last high school friend who got to visit our home.

He had a tough time in Baguio (I went to Diliman). Culture shock, I suppose. The sudden freedom one finds when he's away from home for the first time. He had a difficult time managing school, and booze, and weed, and love life. The almost girlfriend went to visit him once and suspected he was romantically-involved with a guy. He came out to me, one time I was visiting the almost girlfriend with him as my wingman. Her mom actually wanted Ninoy to date her. Tangina lang ni tita. Haha. 

I wish I was more vocal of my support. But my dumb younger self chose to just hear it and quietly accept it for fear of getting found that I, too, am gay. Courage has never been my strongest suit. Look at me now, still fretting over my planned coming out before the end of the year. But fuck, if Ninoy wasn't brave. He came out to the rest of our high school friends who would joke about how it made sense and how he would take advantage of hitching on this guy friend's motorcycle so he could "poke" him. I would always just sit there quiet, never defending him. I was a dick, I know. I think that's when we drifted apart. Can't really blame him. I wasn't a good friend to him.

He eventually transferred to a school in MNL, graduated, started working for this offshore company. We would just see each other when a close high school friend would celebrate a major life event but our friendship was never the same. My last attempt to connect was three years ago. Found out he was working as a collections specialist but wanting to get promoted. My last response to him was "Cool, cool" like a total douchebag instead of asking him to hang. Based on the Facebook posts from his work friends lamenting our collective loss, it seems he did get his well-earned promotion.

To say I feel terrible is an understatement. I feel like I was suckerpunched and forced to watch a significant part of my childhood collapse in front of me. But I see how I deserve this heartbreak. I didn't do what he would do for me. Had I come out to him, I'm pretty sure he would have celebrated it and we would not have outgrown our friendship. I was a silly man, limited by his fears and insecurities.

But I'm happy for you, Noy. You lived a good life free from hiding and hurting for not living your truth. You loved and you were loved back. Your life was a celebration of laughters and smiles and good food, and good friends who deserve your friendship. I guess I wont be able to tell you how you steered my life towards a better direction and how much our brotherhood means to me. I feel sorry for myself for having lost our friendship then, and now, for having lost the opportunity to rekindle it.

I love you, man. Magdadala ako ng chessboard pag nagkita ulit tayo. And we would play again. Just like the old times.
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