A Second Look at an Imperfect Marriage

Months back I had written a feature article about relationships in the school magazine, and I mentioned how the words "true love" and "happily ever after" belong in fairy tales and not real life. My point was that the stark reality was the opposite of these tales of perfect romance and that even time itself gave no guarantee- calling to mind my parent's 27 years of togetherness, which one day crumbled and ended up in separation.

Their old wedding album had been in storage for decades, and the dampness had caused the edges of some photos to fade and blot, others were completely ruined. I bought a large new album where I can transfer these rare mementos which included a virtual diorama of our childhood and the evolution of our family.

I tried to imagine what their life must have been like as a young couple. Their wedding was simple- a small ceremony at the local church in Abuyog, with just family and friends. My mom wore her hair upswept in braids, with flowers that decorated her veil. She looked radiant in her 70's style wedding dress,and layers upon layers of chiffon concealed her pregnancy (I was a six month old fetus she carried in her belly when she walked down the aisle). My father wore long sleeved Barong Tagalog with what suspiciously looks like bell-bottom pants to me, this was September 1980 so I guess that explains it. If I were to describe how they looked together in scenes during the ceremony,in the bridal car side by side, and at the reception- they were happy. Wait, I don't think that would give justice to the look I saw on their faces. Giddy, ecstatic, madly in love- yes, that's much closer.

Through the years they went swiftly from merely husband and wife to Papa and Mama, with me and my chubby baby brothers ever beside them in photos. Like typical Pinoy families, my father one day left to work abroad to support us. And now there were two sets of photos- the ones at our humble rented house with a very thin-looking Mama, and Papa's photos against the backdrop of the Arabian deserts.

I was of course aware of those relationship ups and downs they had, after all that's typical of every married couple. It's just that as me and my brothers grew up to become young adults and gain independence, their parenting roles which help bound them together seemed slowly dissipating along with their affection for each other. Looking back, even though our parents began to have problems and live in separate houses in the States, I am glad they never actually made the move to get an annulment or a divorce. They made a promise before God, after all, for better or for worse. And even though it still saddens me how the ending of my favorite love story turned out, my father was there during my mom's last hours.

As I put the last photograph in place, I had this lump on my throat that I could not swallow. I guess I take it back then, looking at my parent's wedding photo, it was a shining example of nothing less than TRUE LOVE.

Compromising Positions

Last night as we walked home from a very late meeting for the publication, two friends (both NBSB, I think) asked me: is it great being in a relationship? I stopped walking for a bit, and thought carefully of my answer. The glow of the streetlights and the noise of the vehicles on the street seemed to soften a little bit.

"To start with, I think majority of us have a misconception of what love really is between two people."

This put their mouths agape, forming a big "O".

It was true- or at least for me. My model of "true love" was the bond between my parents. As the eldest son, I can say I've really seen them at their best and worst, since the time I was little, until my siblings and I grew up. When I was about four or five, they were the picture of two people completely in love- yes, the kind you see in movies: affectionate, giddy, and completely head-over-heels.

Happily ever afters however, almost never happens in real life. Instead, people deal with the realities of raising their children, paying the mortgage, sending kids to school, working on their retirements... Love's mettle is tested with hardships and adversities and sometimes, it does not endure.

During the time my parent's marriage troubles started- jealousy, money problems, parenting issues- I was worried if their bond would survive considering that they would be migrating to the States, on their own and away from the rest of our relatives. The harsh environment and their distance from us took its toll, and the differences in their personalities caused a rift that was becoming more apparent.

My father is the pragmatic type of person who values practicality more than anything else, my mother, the romanticist, constantly opposed his decisions with reasons that he found unacceptable. The power struggle finally ended with their separation.

I cried a river over this, because for me it was proof that sometimes mere affections or romantic feelings may not be enough to sustain a relationship. That even after 27 years of marriage and three kids, a couple could still give up on their love.

So I brought them back to my point: "A relationship requires more than that weak-in-the-knees feeling for that other person, because after sometime that frizzles away."

I'm an amateur when it comes to love, and for the first time, I am in a relationship that lasted more than a year and requires a whole lot of work to constantly adjust and compromise with what he wants out of the relationship and what I want out of it. To quote a line from the TV show Ally McBeal, "...perhaps because love is about learning to compromise, that's why we find ourselves in compromising positions." But as long as we keep striving, even if it proves difficult to make changes for one another, the relationship will endure.

Learning to give and yield, finding someone who can stand you and your quirks, but also having someone to hold your hand at the funeral of a loved one or someone you can tell your troubles to, even when he says "I told you so"- I say yes, it's hard work and it's no fairy tale, but it is great to be in a relationship.

Love of Siam

Before the sex, before the fantasies, before that unexplainable attraction to my hunky high school classmates, there was that pure, steady, mutual dependence with my boyhood best friend. That’s why when I watched Love of Siam, I couldn’t help but think of Nathan- my best friend who I met when I was eight. We had a different ending though, I did not fall in love with him, and he didn’t say he couldn’t be with me as my boyfriend- his family simply migrated to the US when we were in high school. But so unlike Mew who kept the wooden toy his best friend gave him before he left, I did something else with the keepsake Nathan gave.

The scene in the clip shows the sweetest kiss between the two teens, after Mew sang the song he composed for Tong. How romantic sitting under the stars while lip locking- unlike some people whose first kiss was in a cramped Wendy’s restroom.

Seamless and poignant, Love of Siam is a family drama that transcends language barriers, cultural differences, and gender. Sigh. Sana may part two- curious ako kung ano yung nagyari sa voodoo princess extraordinaire na si lola Ying.

just so you know

date: oct 1,2008
mood: happy
song: just so you know


they've always invoked both feelings of desire and disdain in me. men appeared in many forms: the bullies in elementary school, my high school crush, my college friend who i slept with for the first time...

and my first boyfriend-

or was that technically a relationship? the extent of our interaction consisted mostly of him going to my dorm and fooling around with me until my roommate knocks insistently on the locked door. there were no discussions of "let's move in together soon" or "where is this going?", which probably explains why i never heard from him two months after we met for the first time at that party.

i've always had a penchant for good-looking guys (who doesn't?), and i dedicated my friday and saturday nights in malate or galera to ensnaring the "perfect guy". in the haze of liqour and raging hormones, i'd inevitably jump into bed with them. but these trysts ended up for me, almost always, with tears and goodbyes.

and then there was one:

it began with e-mails for about a month. he bought a copy of my book, and one day asked if he could have lunch with me. he must be a little crazy, i thought. i mean, this guy lives in manila and for two years now i have been based in tacloban. he said he'd take the plane and go on a day trip.

aww...

admittedly, the romantic in me was delirious. i've never met the guy, but how romantic can you get? my first boyfriend couldn't even take a tricycle to buy bread from the baker, but this guy will take a plane ride.

there is a twist of course. he's older than me- not that i consider age a hindrance, but it could be difficult to meet in the middle. we have different sensibilities, tastes, philosophies- after all, we are in different places in our lives. and i also thought: what would people think? this wasn't exactly the "cute young couple" scenario i've always imagined.

when we made it official finally, i was prepared to bridge the gaps- adjusting to his lifestyle, meeting the people around him- and he did the same with me. i realized what i've always missed in my previous relationships: compromise and commitment. during the most trying times in my life he was there: my mother's passing, my grandmother's hospitalization, and all those little trials in day to day life.

with him, i've learned to look beyond the surface- beneath appearances, behind rose-colored glasses. i began to see the good qualities in people like kindness, generosity, and compassion.

i'm far from that twentysomething boy who searched for the perfect guy and found none. i'm an adult in a loving, grown up relationship, and even up to now he still makes my heart leap.

i'm so lucky to have found a man like you, happy 6th hun. ;-)

And I Get Compared to a Cat...

Samar, Leyte, or Panay

by N.

Childhood pets

I grew up in a house with a lot of pets. All through childhood, we’ve had several dogs: one, two, or three each time; a number of cats, and several goats.

We had chickens, too. Several cows and pigs, and usually one water buffalo. But the chickens were for the eggs, and for food. The goats and pigs were for food too on special occasions, although milk can be had from goats if you master the art of milking. The cows and water buffalo were for work on the farm.

Thus, one hardly thought of the latter group of animals as pets.

The best dog we had was King. He was neutered as a puppy, and became big and a bit chubby. He was my brother’s best friend. His tears were copious when King was run over by a truck.

Cats

The cats were another story. Most of the time there were three or four of them, depending on whom among the feral cats from the neighborhood decided to stay. Occasionally we would be feeding almost a dozen of them. We almost never saw mice or rats in the house.

After almost a decade of living in America, I had set-up a household in the midst of Manila. For the Philippines, this is the City of Lights, City that Never Sleeps, City of Our Affections, City by the Bay, Distinguished and Ever Loyal City.

Also City of Garbage.

The third world scourge..

An issue that carried other issues as well, like huge rats, huge mice, and huge roaches. Somehow each species deserve the adjective.

Enter Jude, or Piolo

Depending on your mood, you can call him by either name as he rarely responds anyway.
Jude, because of Thad.

St. Jude Thaddeus. Got it? I had wanted them to be relatives, for some reason that escapes me now. Perhaps because they both are obstinate and moody. Or vainly good-looking. Or dastardly when provoked. Whatever.

Piolo, after I had him neutered. That spaying is another story.

I was smitten with the puppy when the IT lady brought four of them to our place of work, as she had too many of them already. Her American Shorthair had a liaison with a pusakal, and Jude was one of her sons.

I thought of taking in a cat because of the mice and rats problem, and Jude was just perfect. He was toilet trained when he came. He went to the litter box when he pooped.

The pee was another matter. For some reason or the other, Jude was not too bright with the peeing part, like most Pinoy males. It wouldn’t be so bad if cat pee wasn’t so obnoxiously odorsome. An industrial-type stink remover was rendered inutile by Jude’s indiscretions.

He particularly liked to go with me inside my bedroom, where I also work on the computer. Many times I would forget he was there, and this brat never asks me to open the door when the time comes to pee. He loves to rub his body on my legs whenever he was hungry, but he was oh-so-silent when he peed. He would let loose the floodgates, and the favorite place was my bed.

The stink was abominable.

The map

Always, the sheets have to go to the washer immediately. Even after drying though there was a map-like faintly yellow-brown stain left.

After several episodes, it struck me that the stains resemble the Visayan islands.

Bohol. Samar, or Leyte, and especially Panay. It was never Cebu, maybe because the island is very elongated. Luzon is so convoluted, that a random flooding would never resemble Luzon. Mindanao maybe possible, but the Zamboanga peninsula made it difficult to emulate.

My childhood fascination with geography.

I remember everything. With Jude, it all came back, vivid and true.

Only, real smelly.

True Love and the Elusive Mr. Right

I’ve stopped looking. Seriously. It wasn’t just about the lack of great dates, or the lack opportunities, it was simply because I’ve gotten tired of “the game”.

You know what I’m talking about. Boy meets boy, sparks fly on the first date, and bam! It turns into a one night stand. So where is the love? I couldn’t answer that myself.

I’ve gone from conservative to promiscuous and back, and all I ever got was a lousy two-month pseudo relationship. I’ve never been in love, though I’ve cried many times on what-might-have-beens with some guys I’ve dated but never quite bore fruit a lasting relationship with.

Maybe it’s because I’m picky. Or maybe the chemistry isn’t right. Or maybe both? I always managed an excuse. At some point, I decided to stop storyboarding my romances, and see where the wind takes me.

My friend says true love is hard work. Relationships evolve, from the initial fire of the beginning parts of dating to that mellow companionship of two people whose relationship had matured over a period of time. When you love someone, a married friend confided, you adjust and you compromise. It’s a decision you must make.

So will I ever find that? I’m as clueless as I’ve ever been, but I do believe when he comes knocking on my door, I’ll recognize it’s him.

Ah, Love.

Looking Forward to the Day I Could Love Someone Like That

I will not be writing so much for this post, except a short introduction. I found this beautiful post from a great, great blog called Life Funtastique. Click on the link to see the webpage.

Last night N, my partner, asked me whether I still love him.
And he sounded really serious because this was when we were just having our nightly ritual of “talking” like very old couple, hugging our donnas before going to sleep. I stopped a little bit from putting on my moisturizers. And I kept silent for awhile to keep him guessing. Not answering his question.
Well, we talk a lot about the day’s work, our projects, our house, the future and the past, everything and anything! We talk like lovers, old friend and sometimes enemy, bitches, and just old and tired queens.

And then the “question”.
Living for almost six years now is like living forever. There were ups and downs in our relationship. There were a hundred times when I want to call it quits. For a thousand and different reasons and whims. And I know it is true with him too. But then we talk it out. And we talk a lot. And we cleared the air. We forgive and forget. And we go on.

I think I have changed. And I think N has too. We were not the same persons we were when we first met. And the word LOVE has taken on different colors, different meaning, some attachments, maybe depths, images and connotations. And as we changed, that word LOVE has changed as well. A lot.

Being the younger person, I tend to be whimsical. Sometimes unreasonable. But N could be very juvenile too. And his anger really gets into me. Our imperfections, our moods and limitations are all in play in the constant battle in the game called LOVE and commitment.
And back to that “question”.

So I remembered a poem that really hit me and became my torch song when confronted with this wall.
It was borrowed/used by my brother in his wedding five years ago. I found the poem really powerful… somewhat very juvenile, selfish and yet very mature and loving, so cold and yet so passionate. Like sunshine, fire and rain and storm combined!
And even as I read it today, it still rings the same flavor and strong emotions as it had on me years ago.
And I thought, this is me.
My kind of love.
My soul.
And the answer to N’s question.

If You Forget Me by Pablo Neruda
I want you to know one thing.
You know how this is: if I look at the crystal moon, at the red branch of the slow autumn at my window, if I touch near the fire the impalpable ash or the wrinkled body of the log, everything carries me to you, as if everything that exists, aromas, light, metals, were little boats that sail toward those isles of yours that wait for me.
Well, now, if little by little you stop loving me I shall stop loving you little by little.
If suddenly you forget me do not look for me, for I shall already have forgotten you.
If you think it long and mad, the wind of banners that passes through my life,and you decide to leave me at the shoreof the heart where I have roots, remember that on that day, at that hour, I shall lift my arms and my roots will set off to seek another land.
But if each day, each hour, you feel that you are destined for me with implacable sweetness, if each day a flower climbs up to your lips to seek me, ah my love, ah my own, in me all that fire is repeated, in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten, my love feeds on your love, beloved,and as long as you live it will be in your arms without leaving mine
x x x

Why Dating is Hard

notti_boi 27, Makati

Ok, so I posted a profile online hoping to at least "ensnare" a decent date. I repeat, date- I did not say I'm gonna get married. So anyway, I check my messages and the ones below are what I got. My response to their message is the red-colored font.

From: Europeanguy3 [history]Date: 12 Apr 2007, 06:26you are a bottom, I am a top, im mascule, un complicated and looking for a REAL man to have some fun with,, someone who knows what he likes and likes to get it.interested? by the way, I am british, living here in Cebu now... let me know

Ano daw? Mascule? British ka ba talaga?

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From: anthony28 [history]Date: 03 May 2007, 09:48hi im anthony of makati, i like ur body so hot srap yakapin, pwede ko bang gwain yuni wan tto sex din syo, , ,

I’m not a whore, I’m not a whore, I’m not a whore!

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From: sphinxter [history]Date: 02 May 2007, 18:35i am a bit hesitant to hit the message button but i wanna take my chance.do i have a chance?

No.

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From: -SeX TaYo- [history]Date: 13 May 2007, 03:00john real name ko.. 19 3rd year student.. str8 to the point malibog ako.. gusto kita.. pero kung di sex ang gusto mo pwede rin naman akong maging kaibigan... di ako nagpopost ng face pic kasi discreet ako may mga klasmeyt akong bading na member ditoi at mahirap ng mahuli.. kung interesado ka messege ka lang o kaya text mo ko 09064435548 nga pla di ako gwapo pero di rin naman siguro sobrang panget..


DELETED.

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From: toploader [history]Date: 01 May 2007, 11:38nice pics bai. pang model kaayog dating. i bet ur a model ha

Sipsip!

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From: notti_boi [history]Date: 25 Apr 2007, 02:54puntahan na lang kita hehehepwede ba ako inyo mag stay? :)

Hmm teka lang, winner ang fez at body. Maginoo pero medyo bastos! Enter the dragon na tayo!!

That's his pic I posted above.. Oh well, the thing is I'm not in Manila anymore and I won't act on it. Sayang hehe