The Heart of the Matter

"An old true friend of ours was talkin' on the phone
She said you found someone
And I thought of all the bad luck,
And all the struggles we went through
How I lost me and you lost you
What are these voices outside love's open door
Make us throw off our contentment
And beg for something more?"

There I was, watching the trailer for the Sex and the City movie. Then this song cues in. It touched my heart.

I thought of you.

And here I am, sitting alone in a n internet shop, looking for words to describe how I feel right.

You said you found someone. That was weeks ago. And it dawned on me, just now, that I still love you. I lost myself in you. For one whole year. Without any assurance of love to come. You did say you love me, on countless occasions. And though there was no clear cut line on the borderline to friendship and love, I remained by your side.

"I've been learning to live without you now
But I miss you sometimes
The more I know, the less I understand
All the things I thought I knew, I'm learning them again
I've been tryin' to get down to the Heart of the Matter
But my will gets weak
And my thoughts seem to scatter
But I think it's about forgiveness
Forgiveness
Even if, even if you don't love me anymore"

When I decided to let go of you, I started living my life alone - again - after a long time. Then I would sometimes remember the times we were together. Do you remember the time we were at Camp John Hay? Just you and me? Parked somewhere at dawn, just talking about each other? That was the first time I knew I liked you. Then like grew to love. Then I was stuck. Stuck at loving you. I have been trying to ask myself why I fell for you. Then I had the answer. It was you. You were the very reason I fell in love. And I hate it that I fell in love at the wrong time.

I have to learn again. Slowly let go of my feelings for you. The fact is, I haven't really let you go. Now I really have to.

"I wanna be happily everafter
And my heart is so shattered
But I know it's about forgiveness
Forgiveness
Even if, even if you don't love me anymore"

I want to really move on. And the only way to get over you is to accept the fact that I will never have you.

I have to forgive myself and continue living my life - alone.

I will scatter the ashes of the love I had for you, together with the memories that I have with you.

Just one last thing before I go:

The Heart of the Matter is, you will always be my One, True, Love.

Pack Rat

I recently had to go back home and live there, leaving my pretty boring independent lifestyle to take care of the house and my brother as my mom slaves in Europe and my dad recovers from "exhaustion". I can't believe that I am back in my own blue room. In fact, even though I thought I wouldn't, I really missed it.

2 years of moving from one apartment to another made me collect some stuff, and while I was packing my things, ready to go home, I realized that I had collected a lot of things, and some of them served as reminder of the tumultuous 2 years that I lived alone.

Empty water cups, signed by a pretty barista in Hacienda Luisita. A receipt of lunch I shared with a special someone. Pictures of lost friends, notes from work. And with a plastic beside me, I sorted my 2 years of independent existence into groups. Things that make me smile, and things that make me sad. I salvaged at least 2 objects that reminded me of happy days. The rest was thrown away.

I have always been a pack rat. I save reminders of special occasions. I even keep memorabilia from events that caused deep heartache and sadness for me.

It took me a week to unpack. And as my 2 years of independent life unfolded before me, I can't help but wonder if my life would still be the same if my dad didn't kick me out just because I was gay.

Would I meet the friends I love so dear? Would I be the person I am today?

I cleaned out my old room and when I opened my dresser, I smiled. There they were, old smut magazines from High School. I used to buy them every week, at Php 15. I kept them under my bed before, in case my dad snoped around.

I opened a few pages and I laughed. If I had known that I would be the person I am before, I wouldn't have bought those smutty magazines.

I guess that is life. It would take you just one object to remind you that you have gone through a lot of changes.

Then it would take just a couple of seconds to decide if you have changed into a better person - or have chosen the darker path of life.

With that in mind, I can only say that if I was given the chance to go back in time and be in high school again, i would still buy those magazines - even if I knew I would be who I am in the future.

Holy Week

It is the Holy Week and when other people frolic on the beach, I stay here, on my mountain, looking for ways to avoid boredom and remain sane. I have always wondered how spending the Holy Week would be, working up a tan and drowning my angst on the clear, turquoise waters. Maybe next year.

Now that the dreaded Panagbenga season is over, I am quite disappointed that I still see a lot of people that do not really have to be here. In fairness, there are a lot of cute hunks. But other than the eye candy strewn all over Session, I'd still want to walk around town without the heavy traffic jam and annoying tourists. Maybe it is about time they created an official Cordilleran ID. If you don't have one then ride the next bus off to wherever you were from. That wouldn't happen though. Baguio City happens to be the Summer Capital of the Philippines. It still is even though the streets are dirty, the fog has been replaced with early morning smog, and the city smells like Kimchi.

Maybe the City Government needs a wake up call.

When I was a child, I was brought up knowing that Holy Week was to commemorate the death of Christ. Now, I believe it is time for everyone to remember why they are still alive - a time for reflection. I did that this morning. Then I woke up realizing that I fell asleep while thinking about my life. I live a pretty normal life - work, friends and sex makes me preoccupied (funny how Jesus and sex have been used in a paragraph). Yeah, pretty normal - and BORING - if you ask me...

Just a couple more days and it would be April. Wow. Talk about time flying by so fast. I can vividly remember how I spent the New Year. Wouldn't do that next year.

Anyway, it is one in the morning Manila time, and I need to catch up on some zzz's. Last day of my leave, will be going back to work tomorrow.

Au revoir for now!

Promiscuous

What is promiscuity?

Here is a definition of the word promiscuous from Merriam Webster:

promiscuous

Main Entry:

pro·mis·cu·ous

Pronunciation:

\prə-ˈmis-kyə-wəs\

Function:

adjective

Etymology:

Latin promiscuus, from pro- forth + miscēre to mix — more at pro-, mix

Date:

1601

1 : composed of all sorts of persons or things 2 : not restricted to one class, sort, or person : indiscriminate promiscuous distribution of diplomas — Norman Cousins> 3 : not restricted to one sexual partner 4 : casual, irregular <promiscuous eating habits>

From the root word of promiscuity, I realized that I am, indeed, a promiscuous person. But that does not change who I really am.

I had a lot of relationships before. But unlike others, I treasured each one of them. Each time I find someone to love, my whole world stops. Like a car losing control while you are driving 100 kph at the edge of a cliff.

My heart stops, completely, and I give in.

BUT - when I am not involved with anyone, I lose control. Thus the description PROMISCUOUS.

Am I a B*tch? Definitely. There is no denying that that word is a perfect definition for me. I do not care what others may say or feel. But I am. And in a very weird and fascinating way, I love b*tching around.

I have been a saint before. Now I ain't all that. What's funny is that I think SEX is just SEX! No amount of love should be involved. Of course, this is just my opinion. That is why I do not really care what other people think.

I am what I am. And what I am is a special creation.

I am my own religion.

I love myself.

I am promiscuous.

Why Not?

Christmas came and went, and I never really found the need to tell everyone how it went. So in case you are wondering where I spent my Christmas, let's just say I celebrated it in my own way. I attended parties left and right, just to get me through the season. I am sure glad that is over.

2008 is a very promising year for me. This year I think I will fulfill some of my dreams. Maybe this year I would get to ride a plane. Maybe I would experience riding a boat to somewhere like Palawan. Maybe. But I am sure I will not be stuck on top of this mountain. It is time for me to go where I want to go. Life is starting to get a bit boring.

Stress has always been part of my vocabulary since I have started working in the Contact Center business. So I guess I have accepted it as part of my daily existence. What I am having a hard time, though, are people who think they are better than everyone else. I understand, I think I am better than some people. But not to the point of actually being a "know it all". Close friends in the office know who I am talking about. And since that person does not have any social life, much more a connection to the outside world via Internet, I guess it would be safe to assume that that person wouldn't know how I loathe "it".

I am not a hater. As much as possible I make sure that I have good relations with everyone. What makes me really hate some people is when they are pretentious. I hate that. I have never been pretentious in my entire life. I would tell everyone about what I feel, no matter what consequences this may bring to me.

I used to love going to work. It was my haven when I want to get away from the real world. But now every time I sit in front of my workstation, I realize that there is more for me out there. I have been trying to think hard about not resigning, but now that I have come to the point where just the thought of work makes me stressed, I am beginning to think otherwise.

I want to be someone else, someone who is seen by others as a free spirit. I have been that before. I want to be that again.

This year will definitely bring a lot of changes for me. I am now fully aware that I have no savings, and that I need a huge amount of moolah to get me out of that hellhole. I managed before. I can manage now.

I am just scared that I may not be able to follow through. I have read my journals before and realized that some of my plans have not even materialized. It is definitely time to come out of my cocoon, and, as what the Buenavista family say, "put my first footstep in the moon".

There is always something beyond the dark skies.

And, as the saying goes, "WHY NOT?"

Horrible Holiday

It's just a couple of days till December. And it has actually started to get cold as hell outside. I hate the holidays. I just hate it. Whenever I tell someone that I hate Christmas, they go blank (the kind where it's just dead silent and you can hear crickets). They ask me why I hate it that much and I just do not have the strength to explain everything to them. It just boils down to one thing.

I hate being alone on Christmas.

Since I was a child, I never had a real family to spend Christmas with. With my mom abroad and my dad going loco, I never enjoyed Family gatherings. Yup, my brother would say he feels the same crappy way too.

Aside from having no real family to spend the holidays with, I also have never experienced having a lover during the holidays. The last time I had a Christmas relationship, it turned to be just that - a Holiday fling. Nobody goes "ho-ho-ho" in a post Holiday break up. :(

I think that would answer all their questions.

I love Christmas songs though. They somewhat make me long for that one simple kiss that ends the day after a cup of hot cocoa by the fireplace. I love the cold because I feel very comfortable under a nice toasty comforter. Sigh. Now I am feeling nauseous and depressed.

To the Best Mom in the World

Coffee date with my only brother. It has become a staple activity, once a month, usually on the second week. I have never been close to my brother before, but as they say, absence makes the heart go fonder.

We have talked about everything before, but now, the Daniel Lem I knew since childhood became so simple, stronger, and more intellectual. Our monthly coffee date became something that I never imagined. We talked about family, something that has become such a touchy topic for me.

We never knew who our real parents are. We are from different birth mothers, but we only recognize one, our Mother, who had to go through tremendous hardships just to get us to where we are right now. In the course of our conversation, he told me something that I had never thought about, something that I don't have the courage to even say out loud. he talked about the possibility of us getting old and our parents going to somewhere more peaceful. I mean, it is a fact of life. People come and go. See, I can't even write the word, much more utter it. I haven't thought of going through life without my parents, my mom in particular. She has always been my strength, my beacon.

If people only knew how hard it is to live aside from your family, knowing that they are just a jeepney drive away. I chose to savor independence, and though it is really tough in the real world, I have to get away from my comfort zone - my family - and live on my own.

"I can't bear to think about Mama dying," he said.
"Then don't think about it," I replied.

I wanted to tell him that I am scared too, knowing that in a decade, or hopefully in 3 decades, my mom or dad would pass away to a better place. It made me sad just to know that that is a possibility.

It made me think of what I have now, of where I am, and it makes me want to be better in what I do. I pray that before that time comes, I could at least do something, or give something to the only woman I would ever love in my entire life.

I talked to her once, after a long while, after she left for Italy. I was glad to know that she was in her best health. I was actually happy that after 18 years in the land of gladiators and olive oil she finally toured Monaco, and has plans of going to Paris. I envy my Mom. I wish I could be her.

If there is one thing that I would remember until the day I die, it would be that one time when I held her hand and commented that she had rough hands, like me.

"These are beautiful hands," she said. "They are working hands."

I couldn't agree less, she had the most beautiful hands in the world. In those hands I was born and raised. Those hands made me who I am right now.

This is for all the moms in the world. You make the world a better place to live in. Without you nothing would be what they are.

I love you Ma, you are the sunshine of my life.

Happy Birthday.

Manhattan and Happiness

I am obsessed with Manhattan.

As any obsessed person would know, being obsessed means always thinking about it. Dreaming that you are in that place. Just knowing that in a couple of years you'll soon wear that dreamy pair of sandals you bought half price at a Shoe Sale walking the streets of Lower - or Upper Manhattan.

Maybe it's Sex and the City. Or it maybe the dream itself. I am amazed about how much I think of Manhattan. NYC. The Big Apple. I dream of being able to enter Wall Street and just be there, in the midst of all the hustle and bustle.

Oh, how I dream about Manhattan.

Manhattan, if you think about it, is a lot like Baguio, my home. It can get VERY cold sometimes. Or very warm in certain months. Manhattan is a place of "many hills", just like Baguio. And just like my hometown it has a lot of places to go to, restaurants to eat at.

Session Road, like the famed Golden Gate Bridge, has been a haven for those who do not have someone in their lives. And just like Carrie Bradshaw, I have nothing much to do except fret about being single, and write feelings for everyone to see.

Plans in my life ALWAYS involve Manhattan. Someday, I would also see those sailors, and maybe I could hook me up with someone. Just like Miranda. Or Samantha Jones.

Writing this entry makes me realize I am not obsessed with Manhattan itself. It's with the dream of someday, I would be just like the people in the series I grew to love. Too busy to care, too busy with life to even think about the bad things going on around them.

I glance into my Golden Gate Bridge and wonder how life would be after 15 years. Will I still be the same? I have changed a lot, I know, and with that a lot of people are affected. People I always think highly of, people that make me who I am.

Someday, when I am standing, looking at the real Golden Gate Bridge, I will remember this entry, and the people I wouldn't want to leave behind, but have to, for me to find real happiness.

Ah. Now I know. I am obsessed with finding real bliss.It is not Manhattan.Nor Sex and the City.

It's finding genuine happiness.

Pain

Pain. Everybody goes through them. Physically, every time someone experiences any illness, a common headache perhaps, we are assured that sooner or later it will go away. But emotionally - ah - it is fact that it will never go away that easily. In fact, it may never be a bright sunshiny day for some of us.

I have heard a song so many times before. In fact, I have memorized most of the lines myself. It has been one of my favorites, the first song I have ever saved in my MP3 player, and it is still there. I have tried my best not to hear the song, listen, yes, but hear? It pains me that somewhere, a long time ago, I sang the song in front of someone I have loved for the longest time. It was a song I have lovingly dedicated to the one person that made me think ok my future with. The song was full of hope, full of earnest patience. In the future, we will all have better days, it said. And in order to be in a better life, one should get through the night.

It was a busy night last night. I had a lot of work to do, things thought about. The player was silently playing in the corner of the office, to give comfort to those who would like to have a break in the middle of the shift. Then there is was, the song. My best pal, who sat next to me, told me about her conversation with the person I dedicated the song to.

"He said 'This is Chaz' song.'" She said.

I was surprised. How could one song make me want to cry, again, after a couple of days that I haven't thought about him? Was it because that song was heartfelt-fully sung in front of an eager crowd? Was is because in a way, he felt what I felt when I sang that song? Or was it because he knew that I am still hurt with the situation that we are both in. I wondered, aloud, to my best pal, about being able to get through the pain I have been going through.

Funny to think that I have gotten over it. I thought I was. But that song brought me back to my senses. I could never really get through this. If there are any closures to make, it would be with my feelings, my emotions.

I thought I already made amends with myself. But I was wrong.

Pain.

Everybody goes through them.

Physically, like breaking a bone, it would go away, with a strong 500 mg pain reliever pill and a short period of time. But emotionally, like having your heart broken, can take a long while to heal.

I am still hoping for better days.

I will make it through the night.

Going Straight

Once you've joined the bandwagon, there is no turning back.

That's what I have always believed in. Realizing I was gay in the 3rd gay, it does count that I have reasons why I'd like to believe that. However, because of a recent event that rocked my belief to the core, I tend to ask a question: Is it really that possible to join the "other side" when you have been on "this side" for the longest time?

It is one of the nightmares a straight woman would never dream of having- learning your "better" half turns out to be gay. I have asked a friend about that before.

"What if you learned your lover was gay?" I asked, curious about what the "no-so-opposite" sex thought.

"I'd die" she said. "I'd die then die again."

A close friend once told me a story about finding out her lover was gay. She told me her ex-lover did not admit he was. He just thought it was silly. She thought it was silly too. Until she found her ex in bed, with another man.

Maybe it's because I have cursed the label "hopeless romantic" already. Or maybe it is the fact that I don't think I would be happy living a lie. But I really don't think it would work. Call me pessimistic. I don't think a "straight-woman-gay-man" scenario would work.

Not unless both parties know ALL about the other person. And that would require a lot of courage, not to mention denial.

Do not get me wrong, I think in love, nothing is impossible. There are no barriers in loving someone, not even any if's or but's. Everything is fair in war and love.

That is where the real question lies. I am confused, can a real woman really love someone, knowing that the person she loves may love someone else, someone that has something she could never have? Can a gay man actually love a woman, with all his heart, without looking at the man at the next line, realizing that he has rock hard abs?

Okay, it is not a question on loving someone. It all boils down to one thing - being able to remain faithful no matter what temptation comes. Now that's something we really should think of.

To my friend, who have found real love in an unexpected situation - at least for me - I am happy for you. You have found love, something that I have been looking for for my entire life. In a way, I envy you, because someone has accepted you for who you are. I just wish that even if everything changes, you would remain the same person I have known for a while.

Congratulation, you have now gone straight.