Sunday, August 14, 2011


It is never my plan to leave the country, not even for a short vacation. I don't have a passport to start with, and I even doubt whether I'd be given a visa should I decide to get one.

As I begin to see the real cost of going abroad, not even my secret stash can hold out to the imminent cash burst. Lacking in wardrobe, an overhaul alone will cut deep into my pocket. Not to mention my strong  attachment to the ground. Only a week of uprooting and I will wither like a shrub planted in a new pot.

These things, I get to learn as the day of my partner's departure came close. I was with him when he bought his luggage, as well as some of the toiletries and undies he will have to wear. The partner said it will cost double when he buys it elsewhere and despite my subtle objections to his splurge, I let him do all the shopping. The thrill of getting new stuff is all part of the experience.

As the countdown continued, I cannot help but be vocal with my longings. Who would enjoy being the one getting left behind. But this muted protests soon gave way to acceptance. It is perfectly understandable for him to be excited, the sights and sounds of a continent across the blue waters seldom reach one's shores.

Quebec, Toronto, Ottawa, no matter what history books or even Google Map show, I would never step foot in these citiess.

Not even in my wildest dreams.

For this reason, I embrace my partner's voyage with open arms. Guided by faith that his joys and adventures will be mine, I have learned to let go no matter how strange my days would be.

But before he left, I made sure the best parts of me will be his most intimate companions.


In my days of disquiet nights, I was comforted by objects that cradled my juvenile wonders: Cloudless sunsets, a night sky lit by a billion stars, alternative music from my college years, old-school anime, that forced me to cut classes just to follow the episodes, wide open spaces, swathes of forest, the smell of burning leaves, smiles from strangers never to meet again, little mysteries to keep the faith strong.

The little bear personified my romantic proclivity, and now that I found my significant other - to express those leanings, my life has been defined by blissful contentment. I do not wish for more. As for the plush toy, he retired to his little corner on my personal altar; a reminder that even when dark clouds converge, part of me basks in eternal sunshine.

And now that Baabaa and I are bound to live in different coasts I decided to let him be the custodian of everything that brings joy in my often sordid and troubled life.

Two days before his departure, the partner said that his grandmother used to put a rosary inside his bag. With his lola now staying in the province, it was my wooden rosary - the one I've been using to invoke the heavens -  finding its spot inside his baggage.

I will get by on my own. Maybe this distance is good, for the absence of the other would bring us even closer. Whatever life deems as fate, I am ready to face squarely. For beyond the vast ocean, across the brown landmass, behind towering mountains and glittering cities bustling with people from all walks of life,

soars my love.

My heart belongs to the Notthewimpykid, my soul will always be by his side.

Happy Monthsary Baabaa.