Primavera

Because it feels like I have known you for a long, long time.

Death By Tablea

"I'd like to ask you a question," I raised, as we approached Katipunan. "And I hope I can have an honest answer."  

It was past 8 in the evening and our conversation at Chocolat Bake Shop had reached its peak. The mood was set for an open-heart, make or break revelation when the store attendant told us they were about to close.

"Sige, pero bago muna yan toilet ako sa McDonalds." 

He laid down the herbs we brought at the Seedling Bank on the table. I was left there watching our belongings as I thought of my decision:

Is it the right time?

It's been a month since we first met. Buchok and I. The details, I would leave for a future blog entry. But the meet up was almost serendipitous. He came into my life at a time when changes were taking shape. That I'm no longer bound to the past given that footprints cease making its mark on the present.

From the first time I said hello, I already felt the ties that bind: the chemistry of personalities that makes us a compound: the subterranean attraction I refused to let out for reasons of pride. The discoveries were made possible because of the sunrise-to-sundown talks. For days, I was off the grid - on Twitter. He had my attention and I wished not to be disturbed. And for all the stories we shared, values we embraced, and the joys of indulging our passions, I was drawn to him in ways no one has done before.

One soul was able to break the wall. 

However interesting our beginnings, I was pulled into his sphere just when he was about to begin his restoration. Coming from a difficult break-up less than a year ago, I deeply acknowledge that it wouldn't be easy for him to let go. To start over again. He was me when I was turning down people left and right. 

When I was the "troublesome extraordinaire." 

I heard his narrative, the sad song I've seen others had to face through in their quest for love. He confessed the perils after the crushing fall. The loneliness of disillusionment just when it felt like love could last a lifetime. And just by looking at my own climb out of the ditch, the blow done to me was lighter compared to what he had been through.

It was a deep union severed by a runaway distraction.

Much as I would like to sympathize, recognized attachment spawns implied reciprocation. I was hoping he felt the same way; that we are getting somewhere despite the crawl. I was told to enjoy. Make things easy by letting everything fall into place. But how can I listen when the same sunrise to sundown talk we used to do held me so close, that even my thoughts were aligned to him from the moment I wake up to the very minute I sleep?

And it wasn't getting healthy anymore. A little inconsideration is becoming a cause of friction. The lack of intimacy makes me stand on shaky ground. The penchant for reading subtexts gets me confused; it triggers a wait-and-see attitude that has trickled our daily chatter into one-word replies. 

It hurts.

Deep within I was in for a crushing defeat. I was already giving away my cards only because I knew the likes of him comes only a few times in one's lifetime. The freedom fighters in my head advocate for a full scale retreat. That I can still limp all the way to the exit. There were attempts to disconnect of course - a lot. Even fate was tempting with a number of stranger "invitations" which I strongly declined. And for some strange reasons, at a time when drifting was imminent, he would unconsciously send thoughtful words reminding his presence.

That he is still there.

The cycle went on for a week that it came to a point that I needed friends' intervention. Not to help me secure Buchok's attention. But to put sanity back to my head. "There's a resolution," Panda said, over one of our drinking binges. "Why not ask where you stand instead of second guessing his gestures?"

I was tempted to say: "My ego could not afford it. I used to be the one forcing others to state their intentions."

Pero ganun talaga eh. Especially when you know the sublimity of your selflessness.

Going back to the first night. When I was told by Papa Tagay to entertain their "guest;" when I was perfectly comfortable to nod at him and see him as a straight acquaintance. Who would have thought the "guest" and I would last a month under each other's sun?

So I took a stand and sought his answer.

Drawing a stick of Marlboro Black before saying a word, I took a deep breathe hoping the evening drizzle would grant me comfort. The third hang out and first date is already perfection.

"Would it still be okay for me to expect?"

Buchok smiled wordlessly and said..