Snapshots

Hubby uploaded the photos from our recent trip into his computer. I was excited to view the pics and squeezed half a butt cheek into his seat. We brought a tripod this time and had more shots of ourselves together.

His techie nature immediately kicked in, and he started deleting photos that did not pass his standards. "What are you doing?" I asked in panic and grabbed both of his hands to prevent him from eliminating more.

He said he was omitting the ones where we looked ugly, were not smiling, failed to look straight at the camera, or shots that were blurry. I took the SD card, popped it into my own computer, and saved everything.

I picked a song, called hubby over and started the slide show.

One by one, the photos appeared on the screen. A close up shot with whiteheads and nose hair. One with red faces that time we argued. Some where our eyes strayed to passing hunks. And those where at least one of us fell out of focus.

We laughed the whole time we were watching the photos. I dragged the pics into the latest of a series of folders simply named "Us", a collection that to me was perfect in being flawed. And I'm not talking just about the photos.

Familiar Face

The club was brimming with patrons. It was a surprising turnout for technically a Monday morning. There were groups of friends drinking and dancing. Couples enjoying their time together.

And a lot of single men.

As the night was early, some were still busy preening themselves. A number craned their necks and surveyed the crowd expectantly. And a few cruised the dance floor, already on the prowl.

A man with a bottle of beer sat in front of the crowded bar. He stared sadly at his reflection behind the bartender before shaking his head and breaking into a bitter smile.

There were so many lonely souls seeking attention, but he just sat there, deep in thought, at times cupping his face with his hands. He left after a while, unmindful of the smiles and eager stares as he passed by.

I silently wished the guy well from afar. I didn't know him from Adam, but I had worn that familiar face of sadness and regret myself, a few times too many.

Big Hair And False Eyelashes

I scanned the crowd that was gathered outside before hubby and I approached the door. I did the same once we got in and felt relieved that I didn't recognize anyone.

"Why are you so nervous?" hubby teasingly asked.

I rolled my eyes in exasperation. Back in China, he wouldn't even dare come near a gay club. Just because we were not in his home turf, he's suddenly decided to be out and proud.

Yeah, we're of the uptight closeted kind. I know that times have changed. People probably don't care anymore. That perhaps everyone we know already had their suspicions, and we were the only ones in denial.

Maybe it's because we're from a different (older) generation, I don't know.

I picked up a couple of drinks from the bar and politely acknowledged the friendly smiles as I squeezed my way through. The crowd was intoxicated with alcohol, music, and performances from the resident go-go boys and drag queens.

And in the middle of all the sweat and glitter, big hair and false eyelashes, hubby and I embraced our true selves and each other.

Laundry, Breakfast and Coffee

I woke up early and checked up on hubby. I felt relieved that he didn't have any fever and was sleeping soundly. I took a quick shower and like the dutiful wife that I was, headed out to drop off our laundry and buy hubby breakfast and coffee.

With soiled clothes in my arms, I walked along Boracay's beach road, searching for the laundry shop that we passed by the day we arrived. I stopped in my tracks when I chanced upon the same guy at the same place and time as yesterday and the day before.

He was only wearing a pair of white shorts, which emphasized his golden skin. His chest and abs were defined and like in the past days, he was alone. Both of us were not wearing shades this time, and I saw him match my stare as we passed each other.

I couldn't help but look back after a few steps. He turned around almost at the same time and smiled. But like the dutiful wife that I was, I tucked my hair behind my left ear and continued walking to drop off our laundry and buy hubby breakfast and coffee.

Under The Weather

Hubby fell ill in the middle of our trip. We couldn't go to the beach and enjoy the sun. We had to stop gorging on fresh seafood. No more alcohol and club music after dark. Not even just chilling by the roadside watching half-naked hunks pass by.

I was of course furious.

We were stuck in the hotel sleeping our precious holiday time away. Our bodies remained as pale as our butt cheeks. I couldn't possibly enjoy lobster, while hubby subsisted on broth. And the only hunks on view were those on TV.

And yet these were not the reasons why I was seething.

All these years, Hubby was the one who would nurse me back to health. This one time that I could return the favor, I didn't freaking know what to do.

Catch of The Day

The heavy rain kept most of Boracay's tourists indoors. The ones who did brave the downpour flocked to the restaurants. Hubby and I sat by the window gorging on seafood, as our eyes feasted on shirtless orientals passing by.

Three Taiwanese guys arrived at the door with fresh catch from the nearby market. I recognized the telltale signs. Well-maintained physiques, tight Abercrombie tanks and tailored stubble. From outside the restaurant, they also began discreetly checking us out.

I tried to identify the third wheel from the couple. It would have been easier to take him out, but it seemed they were all just friends. I smiled as they came in, and two of them blinked a few times too many. Hubby just rolled his eyes at me and smirked.

They settled into the table across ours, and kept stealing glances at our direction. I smiled and asked what they brought in from the market. One of them said they were out in the water and caught the fish themselves. I said we'd love to catch some as well.

But we paid for the bill, waved at the three guys, and let today's catch go.

Charot.

Breaking Cloud

Hubby was in a dour mood. We didn't have any sleep because of the early flight and have been arguing the past days for the haphazard travel arrangements and rushed preparations.

He was extremely disappointed when we landed in Manila. The sky was overcast, and it started drizzling as we walked out on the Tarmac. I told him not to worry as our destination was another hour's flight away.

I tried to lighten his mood as we settled inside a smaller plane. He is typically easygoing, but I started to worry when he was fixated on the downpour outside and complained of the onset of a migraine.

It was a bumpy takeoff, and the loud whirring of the twin propellers would get under anyone's skin. Hubby's face darkened, and I desperately tried everything to uplift his spirits.

The plane struggled against the rain and couldn't seem to get enough lift due to the heavy winds. The seatbelt sign remained lighted, as we hit turbulence after turbulence.

After an eternity, we finally broke through cloud and everything was bright and beautiful. I was still midway through my nth punch line, when hubby looked away from the window and broke into a smile.