Little Boy Blue

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Doni was competing in a drag show in Singapore and I was thrilled to have the chance to watch his counter-ego Mona Kee Kee perform on stage. I knew how much this means to him and I was happy that I'd be there to support him. For some, it may just be something for fun ... katuwaan ... but I knew that Doni was passionate about being a drag queen and this competition meant the world to him. I invited Nestle to join me and he brought along a couple of his friends.

Dan was rather quiet and shy. We barely spoke at first. I was intent on watching the show, shouting my heart out, cheering for Mona until I got hoarse. The crowd was having so much fun, and Mona was clearly among the crowd favorites.

Eventually, after the show ended we transferred to Tantric to drink and party. By then I was tired. A week's worth of exhaustion, a generous amount of alcohol earlier that evening, and lack of sleep were piling up and making me feel sleepy.

I sidled up closer to Dan and made small talk. Up close, I noticed that he was cute. He wasn't the classic head-turner; his charm was the kind that reveals itself slowly. The big smile on his face, his steady demeanor.

We chatted a little, I was a little tipsy so I don't know how exactly but after awhile we found ourselves flirting a bit. Hands briefly touching. My arms around his shoulder. The teasing smiles and grins back and forth.

But then he suddenly straightened up and turned serious."I have a boyfriend," Dan confessed.

Was it just me or did the room feel suddenly a little tighter? I slowly disengaged myself from him and we stood a little far apart. "Ahhhh ... matagal na kayo? (You guys been together long?)"

"Four years," he replied. "Pero hindi na kami nag se sex. (But we don't have sex anymore.)"

I was surprised. "Oh ... wow."

"Kelan pa? (Since when?)"

"Two years. I guess para na kaming magkapatid? (I guess we're more like brothers now?)" he said hesitantly, and gave me a tired smile. I wanted to hug him, to comfort him but I didn't know whether it was appropriate. He suddenly seemed frail and fragile under the bright disco lights.



Much later, we were about to go home as the bar was closing. We've lost Nestle, he was flirting and dancing with a guy the last time we saw him. Dan and his friend offered to drop me off at the hotel. His friend knew something was up between us and sat at the front of the cab.

Inside, we sat quietly and made small talk. I turned to look at him and suddenly, I couldn't resist it. I kissed him and Dan ... he kissed back. It was quick, furtive, and the knowledge that there were other people including an old man in front made it more exciting.

"Gusto mo bang sumama kahit sandali? (Do you want to go with me for a little bit?)" I asked him in a whisper.

"Hindi puede eh. Magagalit siya (He'd be angry)," Dan answered. I knew who he meant.

"Kahit sandali lang? (Even for just while?)" I said.

He looked at me and I could see he was struggling. I knew he wanted to stay, I also knew he wanted to go.

I stepped up the game. I kissed him again and unbuttoned my jeans a little. Then I took his hand and guided it to my crotch. I moaned softly. Tang-ina sarap. (Fuck) I knew Dan would never do that on his own.  He would feel guilty, but I suppose having someone lead you to it eases the guilt a little. Our kisses were becoming more urgent. I was biting his lips, caressing his body. And then suddenly, we were at the hotel.

We both got off and stood at the driveway. This is it, I told myself. What I would say and do next would determine how our night would end.

"So ..." I started, giving him a devilish grin. "Sige na. Kahit sandali lang?" I coaxed.

"Kane ..." he implored. "Hindi ko pa kaya (I can't do it yet.)"

"Hindi ko pa kaya (I can't do it yet)," he repeated slowly. And then he gave me a look. That look which said --- Please huwag mo na akong pilitin dahil alam kong bibigay ako and then I'd hate myself afterwards (Please don't ask me again because I know I'll give in and then I'd hate myself afterwards.)

We stood quietly still looking at each other in the wee hours of the morning. I moved closer and hugged him.

"It's okay,"I told him. "I understand. You're a good guy Dan." And then I turned around and walked away.



That night, I slept with an ache in my groin. Dan slept beside his lover with an ache in his heart. Somehow ... I knew which one of us had it worse.
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When Stories Are All We've Got

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Previously: (Please read these first to better understand the story below, and play the video at the end.)
So Goodbye, These Days Are Gone

"of all the edifices man has built,

no one can deny, no one who has lived at least,
that love is the frailest structure of all...
built to tumble, meant to fall."

"I still remember what I told him last year on his birthday, that whether he's 24 or 40 or 60, I hope we will always have each other."

Long, Long Ago and Oh, So Far Away

"That is the curse of secrets, I think. It gives new meaning to old memories. I wasn't even sure if he really did love me."

A Year Ago

"For the first ... and last time in my life, I felt that kind of love. And the memory of it is beautiful ... enough to last. Enough to give me comfort on nights like these... when love seems so far away."






Manuel was twenty-four then, I was twenty-seven and we were in love. When I write about him now,  it is tempting to dismiss it as one of those ordinary affairs people have. But I know that what I felt was as deep and as rich as love can ever get, with all its shades and complexities.

He had poise and a quiet dignity. His eyes, I remember, were black like his hair, and he was lean and tall, gentle and fragile-looking. And so in the summer of 2007, I took him out on our first real date. I had just gotten back from trekking the mountains in northern Vietnam and I was eager to see him.

We ate at a restaurant which served fusion dishes and neo-Filipino food. I was very nervous. I wanted to say something special and profound. I wanted to be sophisticated and elegant and wise. I wanted to impress him.

It turned out I did. We had a second date, and then a third. And so on. The next few weeks was a whirlwind of romance and desire, of hearts racing and pulses quickening. It was the birth of love.



The thing about a story is that we dream it as we tell it, and in this way memory and fantasy and words combine to create stories in our heads. You make people talk, they become alive. They sometimes say things like "I'm sorry" which is what Manuel said to me long after he was gone.

Even now I can still see Manuel walking away after we said our final goodbye. The sun had set and the streets were oddly quiet. He asked me to meet him on his last day in Manila months after our break-up, he was leaving tomorrow for America. I had a strange feeling I will never see him again. I never did.




Even after some time had passed, I would dream of Manuel, dream of our happier days, dream of time gone by. In them, we were still in love. None of the terrible things had happened yet, they were set in a future that was still to come. Blissfully unaware of the tragedy that was approaching, soothed and enveloped in the flames of our love, we were happy. Until one day, he stopped appearing in my dreams.

There was something different about the dream where I saw him last. It was vivid, more solid. It felt real. We were driving in the countryside on the outskirts of Manila to revisit a restaurant we loved which overlooked the Taal Lake. It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining and a cool breeze was blowing.

Manuel turned to me and it seemed like he was about to say something important. I tried to stop him. I didn't want to ruin the moment, it was a time to be carefree. There would be time for seriousness later.

But he looked at me with his eyes so soft and so sad. "I'm sorry Kane," he said.

"It's alright," I nodded. I was about to cry. I had waited so long for him to say those words and finally, here they were. "Alam ko. (I know.) I forgive you."

I squeezed his hand, I didn't want to let go. If only I could hold on to my anger and pain just a little bit longer, I'd be able to keep him here, a prisoner of my dreams. But I knew. It was time to set him free. It was time to set myself free. I stepped on the gas and the car sped up the highway. We were racing, racing. To where, I wasn't exactly sure.

And then it becomes 2012. I'm thirty-two years old, and still remembering Manuel. Though he's no longer really Manuel, but made up with a different name and a different identity, like the man who never was. It doesn't matter. I loved him and then he left me.

And yet right here, under the spell of memory and imagination, I can still see him as if through a mist, as if I'm gazing into some other world, a place where there are no goodbyes, no death, no heartaches. I can see others too, my other lovers Marvin and Kenneth and Ed and Kristine, the only girl I ever loved. They're all there, smiling and waving at me.

And sometimes, I see myself driving on a highway with Manuel under a dark moonless sky. I'm young, I'm happy. I'll never die. I'm driving across the surface of my own history, moving fast and when I step on the gas and speed into the present, five years later, I realize it is as if I am giving myself hope, trying to save myself with a story.

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Mercy

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Previously:
Gossip Girl: The Gift That Keeps on Giving
When The Kingdom Falls


The bar was crowded when I got in. Europeans sporting their blonde hair, blue eyes and dark tans were laughing and dancing amid the usual Filipino tourists, a Brazilian guy who works in Hong Kong as a model, and the local boys and girls gyrating and trying to seduce the visitors. For a fee, of course.

It was hot and humid, and after a while I started to sweat so I went to the restroom to fix up when a guy suddenly started chatting with me.

"Hey, how come you weren't dancing?" he asked. He was looking at me with a crooked grin on his face. His face was red; from the heat or the alcohol I wasn't certain, but judging by the way he slurred his speech, it probably was the alcohol.

"Ahhh, I'm just a little tired I guess," I replied.

"Sa guapo mong yan, hindi bagay sa iyo ang nakaupo (With your good looks, it doesn't suit you to be just sitting in a corner)," he said. "Kanina pa kita nakita eh. Ang guapo. (I noticed you earlier. You're so cute.)"

"Ano ka ba, sus, lasing ka lang (You're just drunk)," I told him. I was getting embarrassed.

"By the way, I'm Nelson," he introduced himself. "Do you have a boyfriend?" he asked.

"Uhhhmmm… no," I replied.

"Puede mag apply?(Can I apply?)" he said.

"Uhhhh…" I stammered.

"Shit… ang corny ko."



Some guys were coming inside the restroom so I excused myself to go back to the party. After a while, we bumped into each other again just before I was about to leave.

"Ano? Mag-isa lang ako sa room ko ngayon (I have a room all by myself)," Nelson said. "Diyan lang, malapit lang (It's just near)."

"Ano ka ba (Come on)," I said. "Relax ka lang (Relax)."

"Sige na (Please?)," he pleaded. "Wala kang gagawin. Hihiga ka lang (You don't have to do anything. You just need lie down)."

And there it was, another offer for a mercy fuck. I suddenly remembered how the last time it happened, I became the most despised man in this side of the world.

I was getting stressed by the situation. I wanted to decline politely without embarrassing him.

"Ano ka ba, lasing ka lang at pagod na kasi ako (You're just drunk and I'm really tired man)," I said.

He slowly nodded, with a defeated look on his face.

"Ang hirap talaga pag pangit no? (It's really hard when you're ugly)" he suddenly blurted out. "Walang nagkakagusto sa iyo (Nobody likes you)."

I stared at him with my mouth slightly open, stunned by what he said. But Nelson was right. He was far from goodlooking, it would be a stretch to even call him plain or homely. And then I understood; he was used to this, to being rejected, undesired, unwanted. But what can I do?

"Come on, there are many other guys out there," I said, trying to lighten the mood and cheer him up.

He smiled. "Yeah, but they don't want me," he said, shaking his head. "Don't you see Kane? Everybody wants someone like you."

No, not everyone, I wanted to tell him. Everybody feel this way, sometimes.

He turned around, about  to leave when he suddenly turned back to face me. "Can I have a kiss on the cheek?" he asked.

I nodded. He gave me a tight hug and a quick peck. I hugged him back. I hoped it would be enough. I could still feel how sad and lonely he was and I wanted to say something, anything to comfort him. I felt helpless against his hopelessness. "Hey Nelson, you know..."

"It's okay Kane. Don't worry. Sanay na ako," he said. "I'm used to this."

Then he was gone.
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