Hors de Prix (Priceless)

For those who I haven’t seen in the past few weeks, I have a boyfriend now. Yes, I’m currently in a relationship and honestly, I’ve never been this happy. Last Saturday, while we were out to celebrate our first month together, I told him about my previous relationships and how none of them worked. I know it’s never a wise move to talk to your beau about your past loves but I was trying to tell him that I’ve never been this kilig. For our first month, he took me to the place where we had our first date.

I met my boyfriend (who we will refer to as B) two years ago through a common friend. My friend invited me to watch a musical he was in and B was there, too. I had the biggest crush on him because not only was he cute, he also sang really well. I even watched the show twice because I thought the performance was awesome. In fact, I got so into it that I started to take an interest in Broadway musicals. We weren’t formally introduced (meaning he didn’t know I even existed), but I saw him a couple of times in Alabang after. We were finally introduced two months ago when he came out of the closet and our common friend decided to set us up. And the rest, as they say, is history. Beautiful history.
My relationship with B is different from my previous affairs. I’ve been with different guys who spoiled me in different ways. I dated a guy who bought me flowers every week and got me a copy of Madonna’s Confessions Tour the minute it came out. There was another who took an almost obsessive interest in me, downloading all of my pictures and listening to the music I like. And there were those who seemed to hang on to my every word, who found everything I said witty, even if I was only reading the terms of my restraining order. B is nothing like that.
I am B’s first serious relationship. Honestly, it’s tough being with a first-timer. Our first month was rocky because I had to adjust to a lot of stuff. He admitted he was clueless and that I had to guide him through. Fortunately, I am a patient guy and I was so into him that I didn’t mind. He has his flaws, but who am I to judge them when I have my own?
Sometimes I wish he was more affectionate but I believe it’s about appreciation. When it comes to being with a first-timer, there’s really no point in setting high expectations. You can’t expect him to navigate the relationship maze with as much know-how as someone like Barney Stinson (who if I may add is a fictional character). I’m happy with the way things are and I think it’s because I appreciate the little things that he does. I appreciate the way he texts me just to say I love you, the way he displayed me as a friend on Facebook, and the way he knows me in ways others don’t.
So B doesn’t spoil me the way I am used to being spoiled. He doesn’t buy me flowers or bring me to hotel restaurants. He doesn’t get me Italian shoes or French bags, but he spoils me with love, patience, and attention. He listens to me when I babble and he always reminds me that he loves me. He accepts my flaws, takes care of me, and makes me want to be a better man. And in my opinion, I think that’s more coveted than any bouquet of flowers or designer bling.

Analyze this, Sigmund Freud.

Just for the sake of being vague, allow me to say this: I miss my heartbeat for you.

Lately, I’m being bothered by a new set of emotions. Actually, I wouldn’t call it an emotion because it’s more of a state – but it’s the accompanying emotions of this state that’s bothering me.

I believe in the theory that we as a people grow through conflict. Serious or otherwise, every individual goes through some sort of problem each day. Oddly, I don’t have any. Every aspect of my life is running smoothly. I have stellar grades, I recently got hold of two important positions in two separate councils in my school, I have great relations with my colleagues, professors, and friends, and to top it off – I have a kicking love life. And that’s what’s bothering me. Everything is going well. Too well.

I believe that it is conflict that makes our life interesting. Exciting. It makes for a silly anectode, a great story, a fabulous ice-breaker, and a reason to get together on a weeknight to drink with supportive friends. We learn through conflict. We grow through conflict. I fear that if my life stays this way, I would remain stagnant – rotting in my wonderland existence of WASPy persuasion.

My guy, who we will refer to as A, says that this is normal. It is, in fact, what we should feel. Have I reached a tensionless state that can only be achieved through hypnosis? Analyze that, Mr. Freud. Freud would probably say that I’ve let go of my oral fixation, or resolved my birth trauma, but I guess you could sum up what I’m going through as a clean conscience.

This feeling is weird. The feeling of not worrying about anything is totally new to me. But I like it.

Miles away.

Last Wednesday, Reniel and I agreed that he should come over so we could fix things. We’ve been having problems and we both felt that we should see each other to make up. We did make up, and me and some of my friends ended up having some of the puttanesca he brought.

When he left, I got bothered by what was happening. I knew for a fact that he lived in Valenzuela, but I only realized how far it was that day. He left around six, and he arrived home at nine. Now that’s something.

Things didn’t help when one of my closest friends moved here to the village. It made me realize how far Reniel is. With Kathy, I can come over any time of the day without planning. It’s that convenient. With Reniel, we have to plan everything in advance. To most people, this is nothing, but to me, it matters. It matters a lot.

Reniel called it geographic desirability. I call it practicality. It’s not easy dating someone who lives three, four, or even five cities away. It’s not. It would be easier if we went to the same school, but no. That’s not the case. I know distance shouldn’t matter when it’s in the context of love, but it’s one of the things that are important to me. I’m to blame of course, because I shouldn’t have gone out with him in the first place knowing he lives across the universe.

I ended things with him this morning. He said that I didn’t make any sense. Maybe he’s right.

Cynicism

J’s G4M account is really driving me crazy. By far, I think this is the first entry where I comprehensively put my thoughts into writing (most entries were just outlines, or just stuff that I do). Talking to someone really helps, but all my friends live in the north, and well, I can’t really talk to J about this – he might think I’m neurotic (well, I believe he’ll be reading this later). Well, that stupid account is really driving my sanity away.

Well, he knew something was up, but I’d rather talk to the laptop about it than him. My two-tracked mind is just, well – driving me nuts. Yes, I should just get over that account – after all, it is just an account, but the fact is that it’s freaking G4M. It’s an account where you pick guys up. Why would he create an account there in the first place? I’ve been thinking about it – and, well – I can’t think of any valid reason.

It just pushes me off the edge knowing that I can’t hold him back, that I can control those guys messaging him for hook ups and shit just as much as I control the sun and the moon and the stars in the sky.

There are really times when I get terribly insecure (stems from the past – I used to be fat and ugly – I now used to be svelte – and well, I’m not really gorgeous, but I’ve improved), and I keep torturing (J’s term) myself, thinking the worst – what if J finds someone better than me?

Let’s be realistic – I’m just human. Hey – people assume that I’m this heartless cynical ego-bloated asshole – and that’s true – but I can’t lie. There will always be people better than I am, and I accept that fact.

I have to admit, I’m a very vulnerable person. According to my shrink, I’m a vulnerable person hungry for love – but then when it comes my way, I drive it away with my cynicism.

Just a reality check. I’m having one of my mood swings, but don’t you worry, later on, I’ll be building my wall of defense – and back to that Koji everybody knows.

So Where Are We Headed?

This question absolutely ruins people who are seeing each other. I’ve known this fact for quite some time, and yet, I never learn. I just had to ask J this:

So where are we headed?

Apparently, this is not one of the questions you ask anyone, especially those who are afraid of commitments. And I just found out J was.

I suddenly felt the world crumbling around me, the foundation of my relationship with J slowly cracking beneath my feet, and I felt like I had nothing. All the progress I thought we made seemed so trivial. So insignificant. Unimportant.

The problem lies between the both us, and I am glad to take my share of the blame. My fault was, besides being stupid, is rushing. Obviously, asking that question to a guy you just met shouts, when are you going to be my boyfriend, and it’s sort of scary. A normal guy (and J is sweet enough not be a nasty pervert like all the other men) does not rush, and asking the questions speeds the process to a scary vroooom.

On J’s part, I think his fear of commitment stems from a bad past (well he was implying, correct me if I’m wrong), and I think it’s really unfair that he should let his past affect his present and future as well.

Anyway, I was feeling terrible about it, and J knew. I’m not the type of person who bottles his emotions and thoughts, and he had an earful, well we were in YM, and I have no idea what you call that, letterful? Anyway, he had a letterful of what I had to say, and he did a wonderful job of making me feel better.

And the next thing I knew, I was a happy pill.

I don’t know if I have bi-polar personality disorder or what, but what I know is, I feel like Sarah Jessica Parker in Sex & The City while writing this entry. Lol.

It Started With A Lychee

There we were, on my bed, watching Queer As Folk while I lay on his chest, and his arm around me, while I chewed on a Japanese lychee flavored candy. We were holding hands, silent, filling the awkward gap with music from the television.

He broke the silence with a chuckle, and, “I can smell your candy from here..”

I smiled and squeezed his hand, and replied, “Are you sure it’s my candy? Must be my soap you’re smelling.”

I took a bath before he got here, and I assumed he mistook my peach scented liquid soap for my candy.

“Are you sure it’s my candy?” I asked, facing him. He looks at me, smiles, and nods.

I leaned over and kissed him, allowing his tongue to lick my lips, letting it roll inside my mouth, feeling its warmth envelope me.

“So, it’s my candy?” I asked again, grinning. He was grinning as well, and I said, “Well you can have more..” I leaned over again and soon we were locked in an embrace, arms around each other, kissing each other for a long time.

This was the scene earlier when J came over my house. I was soooooo kilig 🙂