Saturday, March 31, 2012

Grown Up Worries

I was never into any cause. And when the issue of gay marriage and civil partnerships came to fore, I was, well, indifferent. As long as hubby and I were happy, I didn't care much for marching down the aisle or having a signing ceremony at City Hall.

But then I fell ill. Bound in bed and tired of the futile efforts of nursing myself back to health. At the same time that I had a falling out with my siblings, sadly due to greed. I started to worry about our savings, property, the meager material possessions in the life we built together.

I was uncertain if I could name hubby as the new beneficiary for my insurance policy and tried to decipher the fine print in the form. He is technically not a spouse or a relative, but he's all the family I have left. I tore the form up in frustration.

I stared at the digital photo frame on the bedside table. One by one, our pictures appeared on the screen. I smiled as our life together flashed before me, one snapshot after another. Then the next batch came on. They were photos of my husband smiling alone.

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Saturday, March 24, 2012


We poured Chinese takeout into mismatched dinnerware, the lone glazed ceramic dish that we have left and those horrible looking Melaware bowls that hubby replaced the broken ones with. I like form, he likes function. Plastic may be ugly, but it is light and easy to clean.

He's practical, while I care for pretty things. And so we have an Ikea dining set with our made-to-order red sandalwood cabinets. That tacky Chinese calendar with our framed oil pieces on the wall. Finding the house dimly lit one day, he replaced the chandelier's bulbs with compact fluorescent ones.

I carefully placed the ceramic dish in front of him, as he did the plastic one on mine. In between mouthfuls, we blissfully chatted about everything and nothing over an odd pairing of mismatched bowls.

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Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Hello There

"Hello there," this guy said as he smiled. I couldn't place him, but I nodded to acknowledge his greeting. I finished my business, zipped up, washed my hands and went back to the office.

After lunch, I brought along my kit to freshen up. As I was brushing my teeth in front of the sink, he came bursting through the door. I brush thoroughly and which typically takes an eternity. But when I left, he was still in front of the urinals. Waiting.

I drink a lot of warm water in the office to keep myself warm. And each time I needed to relieve myself, the same guy always came in a few seconds behind me. Every. Single. Time.

I needed to speak to one of the team heads in the department just a few steps across ours. After our brief discussion, she introduced me to a member of her team. "Hello there," the guy said as he smiled.

A tingly feeling washed over me, and I started shaking involuntarily.

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Sunday, March 18, 2012

Sleeping Beauty

I'd been staying in bed for weeks. I didn't want to get up, I was scared to even move. The wound was still fresh, and I feared I'd start bleeding again and feel the pain.

I stared at the ceiling for days, watching the shadow cast by the light fixture change length and direction, in sync with the shift in colors splashed across the bare walls, with the passing of time.

Within days, I could predict the sequence of a day's kaleidoscope patterns. Their colors failing to dispel the pervading grayness. I felt trapped. In this room. In this body that just wouldnt't heal.

Even with the lines, corners and shadows, the world seemed to have lost its depth. Its days drawn in linear dimension. Now a daily morning routine, I reached for the small spot of sunshine beside my pillow. The light held my hand, and I felt the warmth that waited patiently for me outside.

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Saturday, March 17, 2012

One Big Happy

I knew that it stood on shaky ground. That its foundations have wasted away from the inside. And without our Mom and Dad, my siblings and I didn't really know how to keep everything together. Yet I had faith that it would continue to weather the seasons.

So I was surprised when everything came crashing down this morning. As much as I tried, it was hopeless to save it from collapsing. And after the dust settled, I was horrified to see everything splayed out on the ground, like a cardboard box unfolded.

My brother and sister stood in the middle of all the rubble. One was holding a hammer. The other one a chisel.

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Sunday, March 11, 2012


A buddy from way back reached out to me in Facebook and announced his possible move to China. We were both ecstatic, hoping that his company's plans would push through. We have been friends for as long as I can remember and were inseparable all the way until high school.

We grew up together and shared typical experiences boys went through. Group dates. Lame lines with girls in bars. Girlie bars. Notorious massage parlors. Picking up street walkers along Quezon Avenue in our Dads' cars. Sharing the car or a motel room for our escapades to save cash.

I gradually distanced myself when I started to get confused with my sexuality. I was terrified he'd find out and I'd lose his friendship. Then I left the country.

We spoke of our past experiences and caught up on each other's lives. Marriage hasn't changed him. He's still the funny, adventurous and extremely horny teenager that I knew. Then what he said made me change my mind about hoping that his company's plans push through.

For I knew he wasn't talking about these when he said we'll be searching for the best pussies in town.

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Sunday, March 4, 2012

Lunch Date

I wore a new trim fit shirt, one that I have been saving for a special occasion. I also had a spring jacket on. I actually had to retrieve it from the dry cleaners downstairs for today. With a pair of denims, dark chestnut brogues, and a whiff of my favorite scent, I was ready.

I haven't been out of the house for weeks. It's the first day that I thought I was well enough to be up and about and finally be able to get rid of the unhealthy pallor on my face. I was extremely excited, and a bit overdressed, for the short walk to the neighborhood restaurant.

Hubby entered our room and found me crying in bed. He asked what was wrong, and in between sobs I said that I was bleeding again. As he struggled to find my medication, he asked how I felt, if I was in pain and where it hurt the most.

I didn't know how to explain to him that the tears were for the worst of the pains that I was feeling. That of grave disappointment.
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