Sunday, March 30, 2014

The Phoney War

Previously: Lip Service

"Mahal na mahal kita at miss na miss sobra." The kid shot back.

"Hugs. Mahal kita."

For almost an hour, we were exchanging sweet nothings. The words were laced with cheesiness, yet it was clear to me that there was no heart into it. God knows why I let myself become an accessory to his words. Perhaps, I was afraid he would take it against me if I ignore his feelings. But, if I were playing raunchy scenes in my head, and imagine him saying those words while maiming his man hole with my tool, I'd see to it that every inch of my cock goes in, just to let him know that words mean nothing when I intend to leave a memory.

This is how I wish to be remembered.

The exchanges had to stop, because I had to get the keys of my workplace from a colleague. The kid already knew before that I had to leave the house. What I didn't realize is that the three words he repeatedly said was meant to provoke, to make him feel owned, and in a way, expecting the recipient to reply in ways that would give him a hard on. How could I have not known, given that most of my sexual gratifications with strangers come from wanking while exchanging sexy words on an instant messaging app? That, the kid had to make it clear when he said to me that he was going to take a shower?

"Okidoki. Kung andiyan ako, paliguan kita." I replied.

"Talaga, sayang naman. Dala ko nga cp ko dito sa CR kasi tinitigasan ako kanina pa. Imagine ko na lang kasama ka."


Alam na.

I wasted no time, and immediately, took a ride back home. I was merely suppressing my lust given that I cannot do edging before seeing my agent. But by the time I set foot in my room, the kid no longer replies to my SMS messages. I tried sending a couple more after several hours but by then, words never returned. The sweetness he expressed that weekend hardly showed in our succeeding correspondence. There was no affection in his texts, except, maybe, when he was reminding me of the day he would be returning to the city. He was still looking forward to spending the night over at my place.

I was excited.

But like all plans set ahead, the best ones tend to get screwed up. So much for not sleeping around to make way for his coming. He wouldn't push through with his return on the day he asked me to make time.

"Baka hindi ako matuloy sa 19." I didn't bother asking his reasons. It was safe to assume he found a more generous host.

So, the chapter with the kid ends, without us ever having to see each other. We still keep in touch, from time to time, mostly him asking what I was doing, and then telling me that he misses me. I would still reply in a manner most pleasing to his eyes, but that's all our conversation is. Some people only need to hear kind words to feel okay. And given the sudden changes in the wind's direction, there is no surprise if, one of these days, I no longer reply.

March begins with a lip service and ends with a phoney war. It was a personal resolution I gladly accepted given my defiance to hollowed obsessions. But life's twists and turns seem intent to not let me off the hook yet. That maybe, all the patience and hurt from searching have now been acknowledged. With providence on my side, and a planet in sight, I have faith that one day, the best will come, like a mobile suit Gundam, soaring towards my direction.

1 comment:

red the mod said...

We find ways to survive, to subsist, to feel needed, wanted, important. We cling on small exchanges, and mundane haphazard details for a quick fix, a momentary sentiment, a fleeting fancy. In the end, we make do with what's available to us - despite how blatantly superficial, unilateral, or utterly inappropriate it may be. Just so we can get by.

But fate can be ironic. The future is both bleak and pregnant with opportunity.

Blind hope. That's what keeps us going.