Diary of a Boy - Entry 2

"Hi Beans, how are you doing?" I continued.

"I am doing okay, G. I am glad. :)" He replied.

"Why are you glad if I may ask?"

"Because you texted me."

"Of course I would. Why wouldn't I? ;)"

"Well, I thought you were really aloof in the club. I thought you wouldn't even talk to me."

"Haha. Sorry. I am just like that inside clubs. I don't really smile much. But I am really friendly. I swear!"

"Were you alone that time?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I like to be alone when I go out. It gives me a sense of isolation." "How about you? Were you alone that time?" I added.

"I was with my friends. I belong to a clan."

"I see."

"Do you have one?"

"None."

"Why not?"

"Well to tell you the truth Beans, I see clans as a waste of time. Boys who have nothing productive to do than have eyeballs, meet new people, and taste each other."

"That's not all true but I do hope we could be friends, G."

"I don't see why not Beans."

Beans was still in College then. He was taking the same course as I took up. He is an intelligent boy with the looks to boot too. After our meeting in the club, it was not until eight months later that I would be meeting him again...even when I was already committed with someone.



I still cannot believe I committed again. It was such a long time since I said 'yes'. I can still remember my last ex who'll be leaving for Abu Dhabi soon...

I can still remember the last night we slept together in his place. My back against his back. I was sobbing. I tried not to but the tears just flowed from my eyes. I'm a cry baby and I admit that.

"Am I not worth it?" I asked him while my tears were slowly sliding from my cheeks to his pillow.

"You have to understand, it's not that I don't love you, I do, but I have to do this for me and for my family."

And then he left a few weeks after. My heart was still aching but perhaps that was for the best.

We left our conversation there. No goodbyes. No waving at the airport. Nothing.

And so I committed with Louie after being single for nearly two years. Me. In love. Again.

Diary of a Boy - Entry 1

Teddy and Karlos

I was 21 then: ambitious, assertive, sociable, and committed. I had just committed to a guy I have been conversing with in PR (formerly G4M) for about three or four months. The date is now vague as it had been years ago. We were a typical couple then. He doesn't have good looks but he is charming and a personality anyone would appreciate. He was 24 working for a BPO then at a mall in Taguig. He was as tall as me (or as short as me), skinny and fair-skinned. He is a geek. He loves National Geographic and even has a subscription to National Geographic. He collects them with much gusto, so it's no surprise that he likes general knowledge.

I, on the other hand, isn't very charming nor have an outstanding personality but somehow we clicked.

I can still remember the days when we used to go to various malls to stroll. You name a mall and we might have been there. We have this habit of strolling aimlessly looking for anything we could find, although, it was really more of spending time with each other since we both still live with family members: him with his sisters and I with my parents and siblings.

Our favorite restaurant was North Park which was still located outside Glorietta 2 before it moved now to Glorietta 5. I always order the Three Kinds of Mushroom with herbed noodles while he orders anything under the sun. Mind you, he wasn't spontaneous or anything. He was just experimental when it comes to food. We have also tried North Park in Market Market and in Trinoma.

He would always be in his jovial self which made me fall in love more. Even after his grueling work, he always brings his A-game. That's what I loved about him. That's what me appreciate him.



Months before...

I was dancing inside a club in Malate. I was alone. I always had been when I go to clubs especially when I'm single. It makes me look more, shall we say, single. Anyway, I was dancing all by my lonesome when a cute guy approached me and gave me his number - on a sheet of tissue.

"That was a first," I thought to myself as he left and let me proceed to my having fun.

Feeling confident, I texted him when I got home. After all, who am I to diss a cute guy like him? He was tall, lean, tisoy and a smile that could kill.

"Hey, my name is G, I'm the one you gave your number inside the bar. And you are?"

"My name is Beans."

Wisp

Memories can haunt you.

Or hurt you.

Or make you feel weak.

Or dismantle you altogether...

Or you can learn from them slowly and build from there, again.

Labels

From the Songkran Festival

Are you a top?

Bottom?

Versa?

Bisexual?

Manly?

Discreet?

Effeminate?

Chub chaser?

Bear?

Stocky?

Lean?

Athletic?

Muscular?

Gay?

Straight Tripper?

M2M virgin?

F*cker?

S*cker?

Gay for pay?

Astig?

In a Relationship?

In an Open Relationship?

Single? By chance or choice?

Looking?

Complicated? Because you chose to do so?

Openly dating?

Exclusively dating?

Exclusively f*cking?

We hate them labels yet we create new ones when we can.

Scrambled Thoughts

I look around our house on a Tuesday night. Skipped work.

'Sometimes I feel my imagination and reality overlaps too much that I am having difficulty what to believe anymore.'

"Is the world different? Or is it me who's different?" I silently asked myself.

After a few moments of reflection: "No, it's the world that is different, perhaps too different to comprehend."

I sip my coffee. Currently, I mix coffee with soymilk. It provides me with my needed caffeine boost as well as my protein consumption.

I place the mug on the wooden table.

There seems to be no purpose of this post. But I start typing nevertheless.

Slowly and quietly the lateness of the night is being coated with the break of dawn. Crickets and lizards stopped making noises only they can understand.

A tricycle hovers outside looking for passengers.

"Tough luck," I smirked.

I really hate being unproductive. The semestral break did just that.

Now my thoughts linger profusely. Continuously.

I hate it.

I'd like to try parkour. It seems exhilarating and exciting. Dangerous but it could be worth a try.

Every now and then I wish my thought organization would mature. It seems to regress every now and then. I could be systematic the other minute and explosive on the next.

Like I said, I hate being unproductive.

Finally, I sip my last concoction and breathed deeply.

The world may be different, but I am too. I realized.