Natsukashii On Valentine's Eve

I.  Dear, 2002

The campaign season for the Arts and Letters Student Council was about to end. Election was merely a day away and everyone was busy introducing the candidates to the Artlets. I was the Secretary General of the dominant party, while she was aligned with the rival - the result of a tampuhan way before we became a couple. The misunderstanding convinced her to sign up with our challenger just to get back and spit right on my face. It didn't matter. Never did I bring politics in our relationship, and on that day, given the hectic schedule, I asked her if we could have some private time at a nearby Crepe Shop to celebrate the occasion. 

She was expecting flowers. 

I remember not buying any.

II. Labs, 2003

Madly in love, I was with my first boyfriend. On that day, I left an hour earlier before my shift ends. It has been established at the beginning of our relationship that I pick him up in Makati from my workplace in Tayuman. I didn't mind the long commute, for it afforded me some time with him as we used to have dinners at a karinderia not far from his boarding house in Espana. 

The relationship was already waning weeks before the occasion. I already slept with another guy after a nasty fight left me looking for consolation in Malate one night. We no longer send SMS like we used to every day. I have already resigned to our growing distance.

Yet on that day, I had a present. A Regine Velasquez CD I brought from Music One the day before. It was a surprise, meant to reignite the dying romance. I was hoping it would change the tide of the relationship. He was perky than usual when I arrived at the clinic. Said, some admirer gave him a stalk of Rose. To this day I still remember his exact words:

"Mabuti pa yung iba, may Rose para sa akin." I was incensed.

We broke up shortly after I dropped him off at his place. He received the CD, the first original item I acquired, only after I asked a common friend to deliver my parting letter.

III. Pangga, 2004

We were at the Baywalk to witness the first Lovapalooza. Unilever Philippines and its partners had staged a mass kissing event to break the record held by Chile a year before. My boyfriend and I never planned of joining. The idea of gay lovers showing public display of affection remains an elusive dream we all yearned. The whole Plaza Raja Sulayman and the adjacent streets were overflowing with couples. As the countdown begins, the partner and I held our breath. I was tempted to kiss him but I was afraid how he would react. 

"5..." I looked at him in the eye, believing we would go on forever.

"4..." We would face life's challenges head on, no matter the personal costs.

"3..." The relationship will allow us to grow as individuals. In the end, we would look back at how far we've come and smile at our accomplishments.

"2..." One day, gay couples like us will never feel ashamed kissing alongside straight people.

"1..." We would remain faithful to each other.

It was a half-a-decade relationship that had to end after love could no longer save our bond. Sadly, the Valentine's stories after the Lovapalooza are no longer consequential.

IV. BaaBaa, 2011  

For the first time, I will let the other tell the story:

For better or for worse; for the bittersweet lingering memories needed to be unearthed just to pen this blog entry, there is comfort knowing I had pasts to tell. The fifth may not have endured the relationship long enough to see the day, and it is something I'm learning to let go.

All I know is that I loved in my own ways, and still remember.

Natsukashii. adj. of some small thing that brings you suddenly, joyously back to fond memories, not with a wistful longing for what's past, but with an appreciation for the good (and bad) times.

Written for the Round Table Challenge

Grand Theft Generation

Against my wishes to get out of my man-cave and leave the house that afternoon, the urgency of performing the errands overruled the desire to procrastinate - again. It was money matters I have to fix - a yin yang of sorts as I had to pay my credit card bills, while e-mailing the documents needed to claim a raffle prize. 

So off I go to the computer shop that has been around the street since the Triassic times. I still owe them 20 pesos, a due I forgot to pay when they had no change and I promised to return the next time I would rent a computer. That was ten years ago. I come and go as I please nowadays, with the utang apparently forgotten, like the ancient desktops they keep replacing to stay ahead of competition.    

It didn't take long for the attendant to get the documents from my hands so they could be scanned and turned into a digital file. While waiting for the machine to finish reading the hard copy, I saw this young girl in front of me, playing a video game created for prepubescent boys and adults - who have nothing to do but simulate a bandit life.

Known collectively as the Grand Theft Auto, I know very little about the game aside from its seamless world and violent content. I had thought of acquiring a bootleg copy some years ago. But knowing it might interfere with my virtual dollhouse also known as the Sims, to refrain from installing it on my hard drive seems to be the most prudent move. GTA went on to become the hottest selling video game of that year. It even spawned several incarnations because of its open-ended gaming concept, which to this day seems appealing to children who were not even born when the first game hit the shelves - including girls.

And she played like nobody is watching: her burly, middle-aged white trash avatar wearing wife beaters and jeans fired missiles that caused buildings to explode. Then, she used a rocket belt to survey the terrain from an altitude. I do not know what fun she reaps from such game save for being hooked to such mindless violence.

Is she trying to prove that girls like her can always outplay the boys?

The curioser in me would like to scratch the surface and find out where she gets the money for such indulgence, or why, of all the pastimes, she picked something girls her age would never touch. Does she have older boys as siblings? Is she an outcast in class? But, for a gender-bending generation where she belongs, questions lose relevance when you realize how egalitarian and twisted our time has become.

"Maybe she used to be a warrior in her past life." The afterthought lingered long after my 'ninja' moves snapped the image with my trusted phone.

"Or simply, she's a boy trapped in a girl's body." The second theory seems more acceptable. 

There goes another lesbian awakening.

Written for the Round Table Challenge

Minsan Lang Ikaw Bata

One day, I walked inside the Toy Kingdom for reasons no longer I can recall. It might have been one of those random visits, whose pretext was to buy a toy for my nephews. I did buy something at the store - a die cast jeep from Hotwheels - which I bought for the kids. But i kept the toy in my room for so long, that i was inching towards owning the die cast myself.

Toy cars.

I had plenty when i was a little boy. I used to simulate traffic jams on the floor complete with cardboard boxes in place of buildings. I had so many die cast toy cars and so many of them got lost and broken. I have managed to save a few. They now make up the cache of trinkets and mementos that occupy the upper shelves of my dresser.

To this day, they remain hidden from our little boys. The thought of turning them over still terrifies to no end.

Returning to the die cast toy jeep i have subconsciously possessed, the act, which slowly manifest every time i find some painted metal object with wheels lying around the house reawaken the kid within. Maybe it was the collector in me who springs into action, it might even be the hoarder taking over.

As far as i know - and it happened to me many times over -  when a die cast toy car gets into the shelves, it's time to invoke the conscience and remind myself.

"Minsan lang ikaw bata."

---

"Bigyan mo din ako ng ganyan sa birthday ko ha?" Lenin pointed at the miniature Chrysler jeep inside the loot bag. Its contents are among the first presents I would give away this Christmas.

"O sige next time." I was supposed to say. The toy was actually meant for his younger brother, who like him, has fascination with die cast vehicles.

"Wait"

"Kunin mo na yung toy." He then slid his hand to claim, that object he's been eyeing since last month.

"Happy Birthday..." I said, as he walked away to show his mom his on-the-spot present. 

Written for the Round Table Challenge