MOVING FORWARD

I’ve moved on. I left Cebu for the best of me. I moved to Manila (Pasay City to be exact) to find greener pastures economically and of course, to get better options of men.

Cebu is a melting pot of horndogs (Kurt C.), middle-aged frustrated men (The Hulk), sissies, and a good share of freakishly –annoying men (freaky boy). The sissy part is the common denominator of the rest. Coincidentally, all three contacted me for the past couple of months. And funny thing is, the word NO is a bit popular these days.

Kurt C. texted me last month informing me that it’s his birthday and that he was alone in his pad. He asked me if I would like to come over, I asked him why. Then without hesitating, he asked me if I would like to sleep (have sex) with him. I answered him bluntly, NO. I mean, I could have before, when I was still smitten by him. But, now, Na-ah! Repulsion is stronger.

Then, Freaky Boy under the influence of alcohol asked for a kiss. According to him, since I’m moving, I can just spare him a little kiss. Bluntly, without any effort to sound or look apologetic, I said NO.

Finally, I met up with The Hulk a couple of days before I left. I couldn’t get him off me. His hands and lips were all over me. Being an asshole for all times, he told me without hesitation (what’s up with this men?!) that he owned me. And that I shouldn’t sleep with another guy or even have a relationship with anybody. That made me laugh. But the cherry on the pie was when he told me that he too would be moving to Manila either the next month or first thing next year. That caught my attention. I told him bluntly, NO.

The problem with this guy is that he’s very territorial and possessive without having concrete grounds for it. He thinks that I’m a piece of object that he can carry around whenever he wants to. He has to go.

Cebu is so yesterday.

I’ve moved on and the last thing I need is baggage and doubts. Besides, I’ve set myself on a new prospect. I don’t want to ruin my chances with my past looming over me. That’ll blow my luck.

UN-LOVE THEE?

Sitting alone on a bus home, the most random thought came over me. When you’ve UN-loved a person and you sleep on one bed, you no longer feel the urge to be in a dermis-to-dermis contact with them. Even if for the longest time all your body knew was his smell, the texture of his skin, and the little breaths that you feel on your forehead almost every night.

Everything in this world has a thin line in-between relationship, friendly or romantic. And it’s always hard to go back to either disposition after you’ve crossed the line. It’s always awkward and weird. Either ways that each one of us has trespassed, disappointment and hurt feelings will always be the collateral damage for both parties. Always, each party has a different version and understanding of the situation. But either way, neither of both parties has greater pain. Everybody hurts all the same, but like fingerprints, no pain is the same. People just have different ways of experiencing and dealing with theirs.

A few months back, all I ever wished for was to be in his ‘nook’ every morning. To feel his arms around me everytime I wake up in the middle of the night. After everything that happened and took place, and after some nights spent with him without any commitment nor expectations, the farther I am from him when I wake up in the middle of the night, and even when I wake up in the morning—I’ll be on the opposite side of the bed. I preferred to be on MY space/side.

Do these actions come with the boundaries after the break-up? Personally, I don’t think so. My hypotheses: These said actions are sub-unconsciously formulated and acted out by our brain and our heart, like a withdrawal symptom for the addicted. As moving on gradually proceeds, the more the body repels the opposite being, flushing out the toxins that inhibited the system for a long period. Yes, you may still know his smell, the texture of his skin or even his very footfall, but it’s never the same. I call this, the process of UN-loving.

But, of course, there will always be slidebacks, minor and major ones. Just last night, after having a CSI marathon, I couldn’t sleep afterwards. The more the weather teased me. Cold winds, rain, crickets, and a playlist in my ipod specifically for ‘those’ times. Unfortunately, my brain and my heart already created an anti-self pity/depression strategy: after every good memory, a bad one would follow. It will always be your choice to either move on or wallow in whatever negative emotional stress you prefer of maybe even a buffet of that. The latter is always a good choice.

There’s no point crying over spilt milk. As what I would tell my friends, move on. There will always be better (fill name here)’s that you’re going to meet. Or maybe even a whole new name that you can fill on these line: (fill name here) is my one true love. (You can explain and expound here if you like)