Special

I had already told him I was about to sleep this evening. That was before midnight, less than an hour after I got home. At work, I was already feeling under the weather. My skin is feverish, and my body at some point was on the verge of collapse. 

Nap, I was able to do. But my mind tells something isn't feeling right. Instinct doesn't want me to sleep, so I was stirred an hour after midnight. Maybe because he was out there - somewhere. We might not be a couple. The odds are stacked against me. But there is no denial, my thoughts are with him in ways the heart speaks only in hushed tones.

And then I remember: from the first time I had a partner, to the last one around a year ago. Never would I go to sleep until the Other tells he is home. The habit I must have picked from the first one: Just to assure him that I was home, I would use the land line to drop call his phone at night. Then I would send him a text greeting before sunrise - to assure him I didn't sneak out. Talk about a paranoid boyfriend. The routine remained unbroken (even when a petty fight drove me to cheat) until we split up three months after meeting him in Malate. 

The next one came and I was the one paranoid. One mistake of not telling me his whereabouts and off I did the unthinkable. Just to shake the feeling of restlessness, of that head-splitting worry and betrayal, I left the house at 4 in the morning. Sleepless and with work just hours away, I went to a massage parlor to vent off the seething anger. The second and I were able to patch things a few days later. 

He didn't find out whatever happened to me that morning.

The third was different. He was considerate enough to tell me exactly where he is. Even when he went out with straight friends, he would call at daybreak - or send a text message that he is safely tucked in bed. He knew I was waiting. That I wouldn't sleep until he does. To show my gratitude, I hardly went out at night. Even when he was abroad. For I knew he would wait and I didn't want him to lose sleep just because of me.

These recollections are needed to understand once more the reason my eyes stay wide open, until the special someone is in a safe place. For I was apologizing to Buchok two nights ago when I insisted to wait until he gets home from a drinking binge. Let it be clear that I didn't ask him to leave his friends, or tell him that it's getting late. Part of the vigil is patience, and in all the times I waited for another, never did I ask when they will go home. 

One day, this blog entry will be read by the fourth, and he too (if he hasn't get my explanation yet) will wonder why I refuse the call of sleep when he is still on the road going to his destination. For all the mouthful and tasteful reasons for such gesture, and how the pattern of wakefulness evolved from one boyfriend to another, I can only think of one to encapsulate my thoughts:   

0:02: Ingat ka pag uwi ha. Please tell me if you're home. 

0:02: Tulog na ako.

0:03: Opo

0:05: Nanayt

0:07: Sleepwell =)

1:30: Home and about to sleep