"What are you doing here?"
That was it, five very condescending words
that jump started our so-called relationship. We never really talked. His
arrogance, even in his silence, was too much for my equally bulged-up ego, so,
we just sat there, the sound of paper burning as we each raced our way down our
respective cigarettes.
"I'm sorry."
***
September
23, 2:37pm
"Seeing each other" would be an
understatement. The dynamics of our affiliation would be more like, "sleeping with each other". We never
really went out. Not that I was asking him to introduce me to the world, but I
was (on the surface) contented of how we were... in bed. He'd invite me to
visit one of his monthly presentations and art exhibits in the university but I
never really had the time nor was I ever trying my best to find some.
All of that was until I saw his toothbrush on my bathroom sink, properly, almost intentionally,
artistically laid there, next to mine, this morning. And then there it was, those
tiny volts of electric shock shooting from all over my fingers. I skimmed over
my dresser and found that he had stocked his boxers, 2 pair of jeans and a few
more shirts on my once-empty drawer.
I've known men just like him from way way before. Not that I've been with every men in
the metro, but, he wasn't much for analyzing. Dense, immature, sometimes
childish. The perfect reflection of how I have tried my very best to be like.
How we met was far from romantic at all. It was the very epitome of a one-night-stand. The kind where it happens almost every Saturday and then when everything else has been gradually established that it would be nothing more than a quick morning round or a late night surprise, he'd eventually, almost discreetly, move in with me.
How we met was far from romantic at all. It was the very epitome of a one-night-stand. The kind where it happens almost every Saturday and then when everything else has been gradually established that it would be nothing more than a quick morning round or a late night surprise, he'd eventually, almost discreetly, move in with me.
We've
been at this for almost 7 months now. None of us (at least from my POV) ever
realizing that it has been this long.
***
September
23, 6:21am
The
faint click from a distance signaled his arrival. Very soon, the showers would
be turned on and then he'd snuggle himself into the-
"Good
Morning." He suddenly whispers into my ear, an arm snaking its way inside
my shirt around my hips.
I
groaned, pretending that he had just woke me.
"Have
you showered yet?" I asked, rather rhetorically.
"The
shower can wait." And even with my back against him, I could see it, the
very smile that I've only seen on his face whenever we were about to do it,
sometimes after. And one time, just once, when he took me to his dad's ancestral
home south outside the city. While we were taking turns dragging my last
cigarette, he told me he'd never been as happy as he was at
that time. I stared at him staring at the blank twilight of dusk and just as I
turned my head to face the coming evening, he smiled at me and even in periphery, I
somehow knew why he was happy.
***
September
23, 7:09pm
"9PM?"
In an almost whisper as he walked out the door on his way to the exhibit.
I
nodded. Not one of us ever discussed as to what might happen tonight.
"It's no big deal."
Irrationally comforting myself.
Sonny,
my ex(-fiance), was in the same arts scene as he was. Not that he ever explicitly showed up any pent-up
emotions whatsoever towards Sonny, it's just that not a lot of people knew our
story, Sonny and I. My engagement with Sonny ended way after I met him but the length of Sonny and I's
relationship was reason enough why not a lot of
guys from their circle could ever understand how we ended up... together.
We
never talked about it though, him and I. I just hope it would continue ever
after tonight.
***
September
24,5:53am
"What
are you doing here?"
That
was it, five very condescending words that jump started our so-called
relationship. We never really talked. His arrogance, even in his silence, was
too much for my equally bulged-up ego, so, we just sat there, the sound of
paper burning as we each raced our way down our respective cigarettes.
"I'm
sorry."
I
was always into counting apologies. This was the very first time he asked for
mine. Normally I'd, inadvertently, nod as an acknowledgement. I was so used of
being apologized to that I'd automatically accept it with the highest degree of
ambivalence. But tonight, technically, this morning, I couldn't nod at his.
He
had just caused a minor scene back the exhibit when he heard a rather insulting
statement from Sonny as we exited the studio on our way home. "I'll give them 6 months. Nobody can
ever love that woman the way I did." And then everything else happened
so fast that the next thing I remembered was staring at his face, Jon's. Sonny, who was by then bleeding the rest of his
broken nose out, was behind me screaming atrocities that I swear I could not
filter into memory. But I was right there staring at Jon staring at me, my mind
blank for whatever kind of expression. "He
has no idea how wrong he is." were the only words I could remember Jon say
as I walked passed him for home.
"What
are you doing here, Jon?" I asked again.
"You
know why I'm here." He starts, putting off his smoke, the tone of his
voice unchanging.
I
knew. Of course I did. And then as he, ever-so-slowly, scooted his was closer to
me until our arms brushed, he continues.
"I'm
not a nobody."
"A
what?"
"Your
ex, he said nobody can ever love you-"
"He
has no idea how wrong he is." I smiled, breaking him off.
And
then he smiles at me, that same smile that only happens when we were about to do it,
sometimes after and that one time in the province.
