You

(The last of three parts)

I knew I had a lot of walls. I was conscious of them, the way I kept people at a certain distance. Deflecting any interest to me with sarcasm or a nonsensical answer. I pushed people away, not for any particular reason, but for the accumulated reasons that have happened.

For one thing, I felt different and quite unsure of where I was going or what I was doing. I wasn't very comfortable with the world and I needed the distance so that I could easily pull myself away if I have to. I needed a separate life that was different from the one I was trying to inhabit.

My past relationship also burned me. It may not have been enough to make me straight, but it was enough to stop myself from falling. I became disillusioned almost to the point of cynicism. It almost ruined my view on gay relationships and made me realize that maybe what I want was too much of a fantasy to be real. Like falling into a rabbit hole to get into some wonderland.

It made me realize a hundred things that I didn't want in a relationship. And those hundred things were the ones I saw in the gay world. It was hard to reconcile what I want from what I was witnessing. I know what I wanted but it felt like it was something I would never find in this world. I know what I could give, but I found it hard to find someone who would be worth that.

My past delivered exactly what our culture told me lay in store for every gay person--lies, heartbreak, deceit.

So you were a turning point in my life. Because no matter how hard I pushed in the beginning, you would not leave me (even if I had left.) Your persistence told me that you were not like my ex or any other I had gone out with. More importantly, you established yourself as someone I could trust. That was important for me. Slowly, you broke through, chipping away the walls that I had built around myself. And for that I thank you. And for that I love you.

(Still) Taking Chances

It's been a year since this blog existed, although it would be five days later before I posted anything in this. It's been a year since I asked you a nonsensical question, two numbers that I told you I'd use to bet on the lottery. I didn't reach that date when I realized it was pointless to hold out and postpone something that could be beautiful already. I also didn't make a bet on the lottery. But, a year later, I still feel like I've won.

With You

I'm out of ideas. So I went looking at pictures, mostly the ones you've taken, looking for some inspiration from the details. I admire your photos. I guess I've told you that many times. It's the perspective you have of things, the way they become something else from your lens. It's a different way of seeing the world, the simple things take on a grander perspective. I love that about you. It shows, at least for me, that you can see beauty from the simple things; you can appreciate moments, no matter how mundane or ordinary they are.

As I browsed through the pictures, which number well into the hundreds, I realized I was happy. Really happy with you even without the sugarcoat of the places we've been. I remember more the moments that we've had more than the places where we've been. I remember walking with you, discovering the world with you and, sometimes, just standing behind or beside you while you take your pictures more than I remember the view from the Empire State or even the Petronas Towers. I can remember more how your face lit up, in surprise and amusement, as we stumbled on the two towers or the first time we settled in to our hotel in Malaysia or how we got lost driving in California and ended up taking the scenic route to get back to the airport.

It's a skewed similarity. You see beauty from the simple things and I find it from our moments together.

Spotlight Shining

Recently, I've been listening to this song again and I thought how the first stanza (the one sung by the girl) was quite appropriate for you saying it to me--since I don't really know how to dance. Also, because I like the idea of the lyrics. For most, if not all, of my adult life I've been pretty much on my own. I had learned how to fend for myself and fumble my way through the world without anyone leading me. I was used to the independence, of not having anyone holding my hand and spinning me around. I had all these walls around me, because I could not allow myself to fall down--because who would catch me if I fall?

But you dance really well and I feel that I can let you take the lead. I don't have to be so much in control of my life, because there's someone--you--who can hold my hand. I can relax a little, let my guards down, because you won't let me fall down.

Like what the guy said in the song--suddenly, I'm feeling brave. I guess the strength comes from knowing that you're around. And you're with me to make all these plans, dreams and aspirations we have come true. For the past month, we've been making plans, not just vague promises, but concrete ones of the next steps for us. There's comfort in knowing that we both have the same plans and we want the same things.

This is really all about us. Not just me, not just you. But us, chasing dreams and making plans. I'm happy that we're going somewhere and we're making the steps together to get to the place of where we want to be. I love how you learn from me and I learn from you; how your weakness is my strength and my strength is your weakness. I love that we can both be strong together, but we don't allow ourselves to be weak at the same time. I love our differences, the way they make us interesting to each other. I love the little things and the big things in our relationship, the sleeping and waking moments together, our fancy dinners and the quieter, simpler ones. I feel we're doing--and getting--this right.

Archives and Longings

I was upgrading several things earlier, which meant I had a lot of waiting time, of simply staring at the progress bar until the updates pull through, hoping that there won't be any error and I won't have to read through logs. You had said good night then and I had moved your text message immediately into my archive folder, which now stands to fifteen hundred messages. All from you.

I don't keep a lot of things, not movie tickets or receipts or any form of memorabilia. I didn't keep your first text message. Or your second. Or your third. Or your fourth. The oldest one I kept was dated March 1, 2010--because it made me laugh. Because it wasn't supposed to be sent to me.

I read some of them, randomly, the earlier ones, the ones that dated back a year ago until a few months back, petty misunderstandings included. There were the things you used to wonder, way back--what would it be like to lie beside me while it's raining outside? What would you say when we meet again? And what would you do? How would it feel like to travel together, with me, just us, waiting on airports and chasing airplanes? There were the things you wanted to do--to eat at Pancake House again, to sleep and wake up beside me, among the GP-rated things you wanted to do with me and to me.

I felt a kind of wistfulness going through the text messages. That was our history. More than a year of wondering and waiting, longing and loving through text messages. We held on, for more than one year, not so much on a past, but on the promise of a future. We didn't have much of a past; we met just when I was about to leave. There wasn't much foundation to begin with, just love.

And now we're back again to that, to text messages and different time zones. But for one month, this past month, we've had something else. Something more definite and tangible than all the sweetest things we have said to each other. A taste and a glimpse--more action than words--of how much I love you, a kind of fulfillment to promises made. And perhaps answers to some of the things you used to wonder and things you wanted to do.

Laying Down Fears

I suddenly woke up earlier today, much too earlier for work, because I was waking myself up from a heartache. I was having a terrible dream and it had felt real. A few days ago, a friend asked me how I was feeling now that I'm back in the US after my month-long vacation. I said, vulnerable.

Of course, he said.

I fear a lot of things, the very long wait notwithstanding. I fear what the time and distance will do to us. The day-to-day things that we will miss about each other; the details that make up our individual lives. I fear I cannot be around all the time to witness your life as it happens. I will only hear of the aftermath, when your day is over and mine has just begun. I won't be there to see your daily success and blunders, when you need to tell someone of a good news or when you've had a bad day. I won't be there when you wake up and when you sleep. I will miss a lot of things and a lot of events in your life. I will miss seeing the world through your eyes, listening to you talk or laugh as you tell your stories, of things you've seen or watched or encountered, of things from your past, your family, friends and the world around you. I fear what this absence can cause us.

I fear how the distance can make us complacent about us; how we might get used to not being together, each with separate lives, uncertain how to coexist and become one when the time comes. I fear how changes will change us. I fear these things because I love you so much and I don't want to lose you because we've grown apart, not just geographically but emotionally.

When I think about June and how happy I was, I want more of that, more of that with you, not in short bursts of happiness, but one that lasts a lifetime.

Like Crazy

I love you. And on most days, I miss you with the kind of intensity and longing that goes with not seeing you for the longest time and the anticipation that comes of seeing you again. There's a certain push and pull with time, it seems so near yet still so far. The days can wheeze past by and yet the minutes can drag on forever.

It's been a long time coming and I want it to be great. I want everything to be great. I have all these things in my head, how I hope things would happen and unfold. How I can show you how much I love you with fewer words and more actions. I'd like to give you everything I could to make up for the absence and the time apart. I'd like to treat it as if it's our first date, as if I'm seeing you for the first time, as if I'm falling in love with you over and over again. I want to spoil you, treat you like a princess and sweep you off your feet. I'd like to get to know you more than I ever know you now. Listen to your dreams and find a way to wrap my dreams around yours.

Walk With Me

Sometimes it makes me feel queasy when you tell me that you look up to me. It's not like I'm taller than you, because I'm not. Sometimes I don't know if you're bluffing, because I never see myself as someone to emulate or look up to. I don't think I've lived an exemplary or extraordinary life. I don't think I've done any better than the next Juan. I have my faults and shortcomings. I have my failures. I have all these deficiencies that make me human, flawed and imperfect. I have my own struggles and disappointments just like everyone else.

This is a partnership and I'd like to think we're on equal footing. Maybe we have our differences, but it doesn't make one of us any lesser or greater than the other. My strengths maybe your weaknesses and your strengths maybe my weaknesses. But you're no less wonderful than I am.

I'd like to, one day, be there for you. To take your hand and ask you to simply walk with me. I need you beside me. Not ahead of me, not behind me. I'd like to know how it feels to hold your hand, to face the world together and make our dreams come true. 

I was trying to recall a song I know. It somehow sums up what I feel at the moment.

Walk with me quiet, walk with me slow. With watered down coffee and words of gold. I can feel the edges of these things when I hear you speak to me, so walk with me.

Walk with me empty, walk with me strong. The hush of our voices when the day seems so long. It is like a balm; it is like a jewel. It unravels all I thought I knew.

At the end of the day, what matters to me is that I am with you. So walk with me.

March 25.

Today would have been the day you would have known this blog. This time last year, you were getting drunk, pouring your heart out to your friends on why you always seem to be the one left behind. Although it was you who left me earlier that day. You left me at Makati, so I left the Philippines. Simple quid pro quo.

I thought you'd disappear, because it wouldn't make sense staying in love with someone several light years away. I told you not to promise me anything and even if you did, I wouldn't hold you to it. I was being realistic, I know what time and distance can do. I was disbelieving when you said you'll wait for two years, that I'll slap into your face the blog you've written if you can't stay true to that. I remember laughing at that time, not at you, but because I thought you were crazy.

Why me? Why me of all people?

I've asked myself that many times--and I still do--because you could be with anyone there. There are thousands of single, gay guys in the metro looking for at least one of the three Ls--love, lust, or labels. I wasn't looking for anything at that time because I was also L--leaving. I knew my realities enough not to expect anything beyond what is typical.

The last thing I want anyone to do for me was to wait. When I left I didn't make any promises to anyone, including you. Choices come with an opportunity cost. And I thought in a few months of being away from Manila, everyone would have moved on, separately, with their lives. Strangely enough, though, you were still there hanging, literally, to some rope and shouting that you love me. Even when I was holding back, even when I had all these walls built around me. Even through whatever issues I got myself into--from the Twitter posts, to the blogs, to people threatening to come over. I told you once that you were like Scott Pilgrim vs the world.

You could have found someone else anytime. You could have moved on and given up at some point. And I wouldn't blame you. But you didn't.

I'd like to think about this, how our choices play out in our lives, today of all days. March 25 has always been meaningful to me long before I knew you. In my holier days, I wanted this day to be the day that I'll be ordained, if ever I get that far in priesthood. I use this day to think about where my choices had taken me. All the ones I've said "yes" to and the ones I've said "no".

This would have been the day I would have said, yes I want to be with you. And yes, I love you. But it's been preempted almost three months back. I knew I love you even before I told you I did. So I thought it wouldn't matter what day anymore, as long as I get to tell you. There was no reason to wait it out till today to tell you something just so the date would be significant for both of us. If there's anything I'd like to tell you now is that I love you more than before. Through the distance and time apart we've spent, it has only grown stronger. When I think about how you could love me despite being a million miles away, it makes me feel so L--lucky.

360

In five days, it will be one year since you left me at the altar. I was at the Greenbelt chapel then and you were in the MRT already. I waited, like a groom, but you were the runaway bride.

Time passed rather swiftly, but not swift enough to get me to you. It's been almost a year since you, for some strange and cocoa-induced reason, decided to love me. I had told you before: no, love someone else, someone nearer to you, someone who won't be 10,000 miles away, someone you can be with and who can be with you everyday.

I pushed you away that night, but you pulled back and you held on. I had seen the world we revolve in and that was my baggage when I met you--I had very low expectations that anything could ever work. I was skeptical, not just because of the distance between us, but also because you seem to be bouncing back and coming out from a relationship that you cared so deeply, one that you felt was so right but just didn't work out. I thought that if at some point the person would want you back, you'd leave in a huff, with a post-it as a goodbye, leaving me once again at the altar. I was wary because of that. I cannot be too sure and I cannot assume too many things.

I certainly did not expect that you'd still be here, in a relationship with me. I don't know if, from where I am right now, what I bring into the relationship is enough. It can not be enough considering how far we are from each other. Words can only mean so much; actions will always speak louder than words.

I know I'm a man of (very) few words and maybe it compounds to the distance because I don't say I love you as often as you do. I'm not used to public declarations of affection. The most public I could ever get was a note in Facebook, where only less than 300 people can see. Still, it took me two days to push myself to write that, although it only took me less than 15 minutes to actually write it.

But it felt good to be able to write that, to say it to a wider audience and not just to you. I wasn't trying to be mushy or sentimental or cheesy. I knew that you had to face down some people; you've probably had dissenters who told you and warned you that we will never work or that I'd play you the way some people assumed I played others. It was my way of saying I'm yours and only yours. And I will be yours for as long as you will have me and want me and love me.

These are words, all words, and I still long for the day when I won't have to say anything but you'd still know that I love you. The day when I'm near you and with you and all my gestures and actions would speak volumes of the things I find hard to say.

In five days, it will be a year since you, for some strange and cocoa-induced reason, decided to love me. For now, it's been 360 days. That's one revolution, that's from 0 to 360 degrees, from point zero to all the way back. It's like getting back to where it all started, a homecoming of some sort, a remembering of what we have and what we've become. Thank you for all the love you have shown me and you continue to show me. I hope to have the rest of my life proving to you that I love you as much and even more.

Something Real

I woke up with my phone vibrating (it was you calling!) and a song in my head. Incidentally, the first few lines that popped into my head while I was waking up was: "Don't wanna wake up alone anymore." After your very short phone call, I went back to sleep, briefly, and woke up some 30 minutes later. The song was still humming in my head, even though I haven't listened to it lately. It somehow fits my sentiments.

I wasn't looking for someone to talk to. When you have a friend as big as BIG friends, I'm more than okay. I've got more than I could wish for. I'm probably living somebody's dreams but it's not all they say.

And then you came along, and you somehow insisted on sticking around, even though I've been hesitant for awhile. I don't know exactly what you saw in me that made you want to wait and risk and even fight off guys I've paid to pose as my pseudo-lovers. You made me think that love was possible in this messy world. Ironic how I felt sure with you despite the thousands of miles between us. And God knows I want us to work, not for a moment, but for a lifetime.

With airfares and hotels halfway booked, I'm both giddy and scared. Scared of what could possibly happen between now and the time I'll be with you. The things we can't control like disasters and unfortunate events. I want so badly to be with you and to give you all the love in the world.

Amazing

Have I ever told you how, everyday, I'm amazed by what we have and how you've stuck with me? How you've chosen to love me when I'm so far away and there are thousands of single gay guys better than me around you. I don't know, but sometimes in my idle moments I think about that.  I think about the why--why me instead of somebody else, perhaps somebody else a lot nearer to you. Why me instead of someone hotter, richer, wiser, and better in a million ways than I could ever be.

When I think about us, I'm grateful that you have found me; grateful beyond words that you love me. It's one of those things I wish we could have--a long life together, because I'd like to spend the rest of my days and all of my life showing you how much I love you and how much I appreciate the things you have done to me. You're amazing and what we have is amazing because of you. :-)

Everything and Nothing

I don't know if it was because there were those few days when you weren't able to go online or because I haven't seen you in any form since your Internet went kaput and I haven't seen a picture of you in Facebook, because I have abstained from logging in. But this is one of those times that I miss you terribly. Sometimes, I catch myself daydreaming and pressing time forward to that day when I will be with you, but I stop myself because I'm afraid something might happen and I had put so much of us already into daydreams.

Time is so relative and I remember a book I've read a long time ago, Einstein's Dreams, that posits how time feels different to everyone. Like how time seems to stretch endlessly right now, but when I look at the schedule we have made when I go home there seems to be no time at all to do everything we want nor even go to all the places we want to.  Pearl Farm was abandoned and Bali, too.  And, so far, we only have one tentative night to meet all your friends. Time right now seems so expansive until May ends and then it would feel so condensed.  If only time could be hurried up when waiting then paused when the moment's perfect.

I was listening to Maroon 5's live version of Alicia Keys' If I Ain't Got You while I was driving home and it hit me perfectly. I'm actually in the land of milk and honey; I'm living some people's American Dream.  I've got a job that pays good enough. I can get the latest, the greatest, the best of technology and fashion. I can have everything that people want, but everything means nothing if I ain't got you.

I love you.

Thank you for loving me. Maybe someday, one day, the i-love-yous will be less and it'll lose its intensity. But its meaning will remain. It's you I love. Not the version of who you are now, but simply you, what inexplicably makes you who you are and different from everyone I've ever met and been with.

Sometimes it scares me because it feels so much like the ever after already. And when I see the stretch of time that we'll be together, I wonder if I'll ever be enough for you. I'm hardly the most exciting and interesting person. I've been known to cure insomnia and make mute men talk.  But I guess I'll just be the silent part of you.  The one you can run to when the world and your life becomes too noisy and unbearable.  I'll be that shoulder you lean on when you're too drunk to walk straight, drive you home when you can't find the car key in your pocket.  Hold your hand and hug you when you're too frazzled and overwhelmed by work and the minutiae of daily life .  I'll be that post-it when you've forgotten schedules and appointments like taking your bath.

I won't be able to tell you what to do when you're between choices and decisions, but I can guide you through your options and help you weigh the pros and cons.  At the least, I will listen.  What you're saying and what you're not saying.  What you say you don't want and what you really need.

I cannot promise you a very exciting life. But I can give you a love that's as wild and open to whatever lies ahead. It will have its ups and downs, a whole lot of waiting for things to happen, and maybe some very rough roads. I'll hold on to us when the ground starts shaking.  I'll remember our very first moments and I'll go back to this when I love you more than the air I breathe.

Greeting

I know I've been remiss in writing. I've been busy or, more appropriately, preoccupied. I had an idea of what to give you for your birthday (aside from the t-shirts) but it took a bit of time to accomplish it. I thought about asking one of your friends to post it in your Facebook or tag you (since you disabled wall posts) but I realized I don't want to embarrass myself like that.

I created this with images culled from your blog so that it can be anonymous enough to be posted in Facebook or wherever, but anyone who knows your blog can easily associate it with you. It's a way of going public without inadvertently letting you out. I tested Windows Movie Maker first, but I found out it couldn't accomplish the concept I had in mind. So I badgered my parents to buy me a Mac notebook because I need to have the best equipment if I were to have a career in multimedia. Kidding.

This was created in Flash Professional CS5, which essentially took much of my time (see? I told you I was busy this January) in learning even the most rudimentary animation. Except for a few images, most of them came from your blog with the label: cheshire. There weren't that many images so I had to reuse some of them. I guess you might (or might not) have noticed that a visitor from Louisville visited or left your blog quite a few times this January. That was obviously me looking for images.

The first text that appears here is from a Pablo Neruda sonnet. It's from a poem about lovers being apart and being together only in dreams, which is pretty much like us. The next was a text message from you when we became a couple. The sequence it appears on is the text message you sent me, but I rearranged it so that it would still make sense when you read it from top to bottom. The last one is from me.

Anyway, this is me saying I love you, I miss you, and happy birthday in a few images, some words, and a song. :-)

Chip 25th Birthday

Growing

When I proposed that goal to you, something we could both work on for this year, it wasn't for what the reward could be.  I wanted us to grow in this relationship.  Like I've told you before, I wouldn't promise you the moon, the stars, and the sun because they're impossible to reach.  But I want us to have something to work on and look forward to, something within the boundaries of reality that we can strive for.  It's only us now.  There'll be nothing but the endlessness of days and if we stop dreaming, if we stop growing, we might reach a stop sign or, worse, a dead end.  It's always been one of the challenges of relationships, how to stop ourselves from falling into a rut, as if after we have gotten each other we have rested on laurels and stopped working on becoming better individuals.  I've always feared that.  That one day we wake up and we have become the worst versions of ourselves, carrying grudges and pent-up emotions and dreams unrealized.

No, when I posed to you that challenge, it's because I want us to become the best part of ourselves in this relationship.  Hopefully, there'll be more of this, similar to what we have at work (your employer and my previous employer), where we set goals to work on for every year.  I want us to grow better and older together.  Whatever reward is just icing on a cake or grater on a cheese. ;-)

Dancing

I know you love dancing and I'm someone with two left feet when it comes to that.  It's always been one of those things that I find sexy in somebody.  While I was driving earlier today, I remember listening to trance music a few years back and there was one song that I found nice though a bit sad.  About someone going out, partying, because a love has just died and he's alone tonight, although he'd rather not be alone tonight.

When I got back in the house, I looked for the iPod nano, which I haven't used for a very long time.  I can't remember the title or the artist, so I had to wade through more than 10,000 mp3s before I found it.  I don't know exactly why I had thought about this song.  I guess, a part of me wanted to dance with you, no matter how clumsy I'll be and how foolish I'll look.  I don't want you to ever feel alone.  And maybe you can wrestle with an angel all your life. ;-)

Above and Beyond - Alone Tonight

Staying

If you sleep beside me one night, I'd still be lying with you the next day, waiting for you to wake up.  It will be like that for a thousand nights and a thousand days and even a thousand thousand more.

If you hug me so tight, I'll stay.  I'll breakaway if only so I could hug you even tighter than before.

If you ask me to fall for you, I'll let you catch me.  I won't spread my wings and fly away, because I'm here to stay.  With you, beside you.

I love you, Chip.

That sums up all that I really want to say.