Saturday, August 21, 2010

Lesson Learned

I was studying at a coffee shop when I noticed somebody throwing glances at me.

This scenario was all too familiar to me: I’ve heard stories about how the 'trade' works and Ive read it far too often in porn literature (yes, that's my type of porn). After staring at each other for a while, either one is supposed to smile, the other goes to the comfort room or follows suit, and the rest is history. I find these stories fascinating, primarily because they're outside my realm of experience. Do they even really happen in real life?

They probably do, but I stop short of finishing even the first act of staring back. In reference to attempted crimes, some cause or reason other than my own desistance stops me from committing all acts constituting the 'felony'... or maybe I'm restrained by my own desistance. Maybe what I do doesn't even count as an attempt, because I haven't even entered the 'objective' phase of the crime--the initial act of staring back. I'm too, as my friends say, 'conservative'.

Case in point: I've never smoked. I've never been drunk. I call my parents whenever I get home from school and I text them virtually wherever I am. Literally. Although I've admittedly been to a few shady places in the past, I'm generally a prude in the actual meaning of the word.

In my imagination, I would've stared back and something might have happened. In the world of porn literature, he would have given me a really hot blowjob and I would've obliged as well. Maybe we'd even exchange numbers afterwards.

In reality though, what I did was plug my earphones, listened to Chris Garneau in full volume, and read cases until my eyes gave out. I didn't even notice him leaving.

---

Congratulations, self. You've earned yourself a stalker who would call you every so often, tell you on a daily basis that he dropped by Malcolm and other places you regularly go to, and attempt to even befriend your boyfriend.

I now realize the stupidity of my acts and this time I had to be hard on him: I deleted all traces of him in my life and swore never again to engage in a emotional flattery and flirtation. Lesson learned.

---

Sometimes a relationship can't go any lower than it already is. And, sometimes, all you need is a date, where silently but surely, every broken piece of your relationship is restored to its original place.

---

And yeah, I know I promised not to blog, but I figured I deserved some form of material reward after studying so much for the past few days. And because I think I erased the movie I wanted to watch again, I decided to just update instead.


















Wednesday, August 18, 2010

An Update

Two nights ago, my boyfriend told me he doesn't feel my love anymore. That I've changed and have become cold and insensitive, in contrast to the person he fell in love with roughly three months ago. That person? He was warm and endearing.

I didn't need to look at myself in the mirror to understand exactly what he means. Law school has changed me. Without even realizing it then, I've built walls around people and even around myself just so I wouldn't succumb to destabilizing emotions. Who can blame me? This is the only way I can survive every day of insults and insecurities.

Because I didn't want to be selfish, I told him he could leave if he wanted to--I can promise nothing more than what I'm laying on the table and this will more or less continue for the succeeding years. But he wouldn't take that option.

It was only then when I again felt that warm feeling of sadness. He went to UP late at night, and we ate at one of the restaurants obviously about to close for the night. He was obviously about to cry--and he did just that. He rushed to the washroom, and I just stared blankly at him through it all. I was expressionless, with an almost curious look on my face.

Deep inside--but I would never admit this to him--I felt sad. He literally braved the floods of Manila to get to a person who's not even thankful for his presence. I have become the very thing I despise: an asshole.

I love him. God knows I do. And I can't be thankful enough that he chose to stick around. I don't know for how long his tolerance will last, but nonetheless, I'm ready for anything.

After all, my plan is this: I'll go through law school for all the suffering, insights, and learnings it has to offer. But when I've gone through everything, assuming that the difficulties stop there (which, I'm pretty sure, it doesn't), I will come back for him and try my best to earn his love back. Yes, the plan is plain stupid. He might well be in an altogether different path or relationship by then, but it's a risk I have to take.

The question now is, can I do it? Refrain from romantic, even sexual, connections for four years? For sure. If there's one thing about me, that's my appreciation for solitude. When I chose to be single, I stayed single for as long as I wanted to, notwithstanding flirtations in the side. I went to movies alone, I didn't touch my mobile phone for as long as a week, and I just immersed myself in work and movies. In retrospect, those were the happiest days. Another thing is my natural ability to resist sexual temptation. In the relatively short span of time that I've lived my life as a gay man, I've managed to come up with the conclusion that, really, masturbation is the best way to have sexual satisfaction. Sex, after all, is just in the mind, yeah?

Our love was an accident. I met him through a friend and, after a few dates, we finally realized how strongly we felt for each other. I tried to keep the course as normal as possible, as my previous relationships were either spur-of-the-moment decisions or ways for me to get out of another relationship. I involved myself in this relationship with the conviction that I intend to stay with this man for the rest of my life. That has not changed.

The fact remains: he wouldn't walk away. And I wish he won't ever have to.
---

As for the other boy, he told me he went to Malcolm and my place in Diliman to check on me. He even went through the places we had gone to, as if there's a lot of them in the first place.

Now that just freaked me out. I think I've told him in clear language (I would think) that there was nothing to look forward to. There was no relationship and I was not going to give up the person I truly love for a person who may look good, but knows nothing more than to tell me he loves me without any factual basis (and I'm not even talking about specific reasons, since everybody keeps on saying 'love doesn't have to have reasons, et cetera.'). I'm talking about love, which I believe should start with a strong foundation.

That's the next worst thing you can do to me: try to talk sweet to me and throw words that only make me feel sick to my stomach. And then stalk me. I'm not even stalk-able for Christ's sake.

---

I'll probably only be able to update this blog after a while. Midterm exams are in a week and I have to pore over mountains of readings and retain an overwhelming amount of information in days.

Maybe I can't do it. But I'll do it anyway.

The Right Thing to Do

He told me he loved me. That I had fascinating eyes and that I was cute. He told me he was exactly whom he was looking for.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Was he actually telling me he loved me two days after we met? With all due respect, I just hate people who do that. He barely touched the surface of who I am. He has no right to love me. For me, love is this really big thing that shouldn't ever be taken lightly. Love comes with responsibilities and disappointments and the knowledge that things won't always be right. And yet, through all these drawbacks, love never ceases.

What he feels isn't love.

He knew I had a relationship, but that didn't stop him from trying. So I did it myself. I stopped the person I used to see in campus and ogle at. I stopped one of the reasons I would brightly go to school back in my undergrad days from going further into my life. Gwapo eh. :p

Gwapo, however, doesn't make the cut. I guess I've really grown old. Cutting the ties was the hard part. I've always been polite. I told him: "Sometimes we have to do what's right, not what's pleasing. I'm going to stop this now." He was heartbroken, but he'd get over it. He's eighteen.

As for the boyfriend, my friends advised me not to tell him. If I did, this will probably one of those things that will blow out of proportion. I told him though, on my way home, that he has the option to break up with me. Maybe we can be together after four years, when I've gone through this hell.

The thing is, we never get to talk. Of all people, I understand best the value of communication in a relationship. But I can't stop. I can't stop because I owe to my parents the obligation to do my best in here. I owe to myself the need to survive, to be relevant and responsible, and to stand by a decision I made once I passed the LAE. I can't stop and spare a few minutes, which would extend to hours, just so I could know what's happening with his life.

One last thing. Should I feel depressed that I often get stereotyped by my very own friends (I am, quite obviously, not out of the closet) as a sex-hungry gay guy? I am familiar with how some homosexual men are, having been a member of G4M for a week or so myself. I just brush these remarks off. But really, I can go through one week without jacking off. My boyfriend and I? We haven't had sex in a month, notwithstanding that he slept over for the past month thrice already.

Damn. This must mean that I'm a very uptight person.

Sunday, August 15, 2010

Betraying the Boyfriend

For the past few days, my daily routine has been like this:

  • Study in the library until 9:00 PM
  • Study at home until 1:00/2:00 AM
  • Sleep by 1:00/2:00 AM
  • Wake up at 7:00 AM/8:00AM
For a person who used to enjoy as long as 9 hours of sleep back in undergrad, this is definitely something. It's amazing how this is changing the very essence of who I am: a sleepy person.

I must admit though, I do have my relapses. This afternoon, on my way to Trinoma, I dozed my head for a few seconds inside the jeepney and found myself in SM North Edsa. The consequence: I had to walk all the way to Trinoma to meet my college friends, whom I haven't seen in month, and my mom, whom I haven't seen in a week. One of my friends told me the dark circles in my eyes are beginning to fester. But what can I do? It's a much better trade-off than being depressed all the time or being unprepared.

Looking back, I never would've seen myself going through almost-sleepless nights of studying. I never did this during my undergrad days, and honestly thought I would never have to.

Aside from this fundamental change in my body schedule, something else has changed. Last night, I agreed to a date with another guy. I don't know what's gotten into me. A law school classmate of mine told me it must be the only way I can think of reacting to all the stress. Frankly? I think it's the way he's being overly possessive of me. Seriously, he expects me to text him like we're giddy lovers who can't get enough of each other. I've never been the romantic type and I honestly hate constant text messaging, but I leave enough room for both in order to let our relationship grow.

But at a certain point, I guess I got fed up of all his expectations and wanted to break free from it. So I agreed to the date. What surprised me was how this other guy invited himself to my place--the climax of which is a hug he initiated....and a kiss I initiated.

I know it's wrong, and I still can't wrap my head around what I did. But I did it, and there's simply no excuse.

I think I made things even worse by agreeing to another lunch date this afternoon right before class. I told myself I was just being polite: he drove all the way to the university just to get to talk to me. How can I refuse? But really, I could have refused. In fact, I should have refused.

At the end of the day, what's bothering me the most is my indifference. Frankly, I don't feel anything toward this other boy. He told me he thought he loved me. But really, is love possible after a few dates and conversations? Is love possible when you haven't even seen me smile, save for a few polite smiles I had to force out of myself?

So maybe it wasn't the kiss. But it was still a kiss. And I couldn't be bothered less by it.


Sunday, August 8, 2010

Dropping and Rebelling

I don't know what's gotten into me.

If there's one thing my boyfriend hates, that's me talking to my ex's. I can totally understand him. I would prohibit my then boyfriends from talking to their ex's just the same. The extent of my boyfriend's disapproval, however, is so much stronger. He even goes as far as find ways to hate them: look at our previous conversations deeply buried in my inbox and even check my phone incessantly. I hated and respected it, his disapproval.

But something's bothering me. For the past two days, I managed to talk to my two ex's, both of whom celebrated their birthdays over the weekend. It was a casual conversation about our current lives--not once did I hide the fact that I am happily in a relationship.

What I did begs the question though: why did I do it?

I have a number of theories, but I'd rather not dwell on them. What I know with certainty, however, is that I probably won't tell this to him. He'd freak out and make a big deal out of it.

Over the weekend, I've also made up my mind: I'm going to drop a minor subject. It's not so much the difficulty of the subject that's driving me crazy; it's that I have to. Or at least I think I do.

You see, this is a major decision I'm making. As a friend of mine says, I've been a 'titleholder' for so long that I just refuse to give up the fight this early. The fight, meaning the possibilities of graduating with Latin honors and all that. Possibilities which, from where I'm standing, are but a mere hopeless thought. I thought long and hard about how I graduated with top honors and how I loved what getting them did to my ego.

But then, do these really matter? Do these matter compare to the ultimate objective of understanding how it is to be a lawyer? And to help? Maybe not. Or maybe I'm just rationalizing.

Deep within me, I know the real reason why I'm doing this. In my own acute, probably inconsequential kind of way, I'm rebelling against the system. A system that has institutionalized cruelty. It's one thing to say that the world out there is much more cruel and harsh; it's another thing to say that the cruelty of the 'real' world justifies the cruelty they're doing to us.

This is UP. But was UP ever meant to be like this? I remember telling my mom that if I don't pass this exam, I might as well not study law anymore. That was my pride talking. And dropping? This is my pride being crushed.

I'm dropping this subject because I'm tired of being scared all the time. I'm dropping, but I'm not totally quitting, because then I would've stopped going through this altogether. I'm dropping, because I want to release a part of myself trapped in the unjust but legitimate system of law school. I want not just more time to study, but a bit of time for my family, to talk to them a bit more at night.


There are many things I want, but so little that I am allowed to take. As for what I'm required to give up? Everything. My job, my time for my boyfriend, my family, my friends.

Myself?

I don't want to lose myself.


And that's really why I'm dropping.

Saturday, August 7, 2010

Three

It was our third monthsary. The mere thought of it made staying in the library for late nights (read: until closing time) bearable. I knew that at the end of the tunnel, I was going to be with him. The mere thought of it made all the stress of the days prior to the day livable.

We had been fighting intensely on my way to the mall from school. What irked me was that I had to travel for an hour or so just to get to him, at the expense of the time I could use for studying. His text messages were cold and indifferent, a sign that he was getting impatient of waiting for me.

X: You don't understand. You pretend you do, but you never do.

Y. Ang sakit mo naman magsalita. Ilang beses na kitang hinintay pero kailangan ako nagreklamo? Ilang beses ako nagmukhang tanga habang nagbabasa ka, pero may sinabi ba ko?

I had to hear that to realize that I was being an asshole.


So thanks, because that's the perfect monthsary gift I could ever ask for.

PS. I realize I am losing my passion in writing, like everything else that I'm losing: my sanity, my patience, my money, etc. There are even some stark grammatical errors in my past entries. Sad, but there you go.



Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Our 3rd Monthsary, Among Other Law School Issues

I officially quit my job and am now living off my parents' salary. It's kinda sad, considering that I was a relatively high-earning student back then and can buy anything that I wanted. I needed to do that: free up what little is left of my time to breathe and sleep, at the very least.

In other news, I'd like to think I'm sort of adjusting. I get to read more than half of the readings assigned in class, and I don't get shouted at as often. I don't look at my notebook of motivations as often as before. And whenever I have doubts of whether or not I really wanted this, I just look back at how badly I wanted to pass that entrance exam:

I knew passing was a long shot, and I made my odds even slimmer by breaking up with my then boyfriend and not getting a wink of sleep the night before the examinations. My ex even threatened to get back at me and said all sorts of nasty things that he said he'd bring out in the open (and being the indifferent person that I was, and still am, I told him to do whatever he wanted). I completed all nine night masses and visited every church in sight to ask God to give me this. I'm not about to throw it away because it's hard.

Getting a 5.0 and crying after class is regular for our class now. It happens too regularly that we forget that it's not normal. They shouldn't be treating us like this, but what can we do? No one can reprimand them, much less tell them off.

The only redeeming factor for all these difficulty is that we're celebrating our 3rd monthsary later this week. There's no grand celebration or anything, just the two of us. That's a lot more than I can ask for.