Novocaine

Last night I gave Denise a belated Valentine's present: a pair of earrings.


She offered to invite me inside for dinner and dessert, but I turned her offer down as I wasn't hungry. We stayed outside her house, cracking jokes like old times, poking fun at each other about how we were both gaining weight, and playing with her adorably sociable pug Bailey. When I told her I came from this year's auditions for the Accenture Chorale, Denise asked me to sing...and I sang her the tenor part of "The Lord Bless You and Keep You."

After all these years and failed attempts, I guess I haven't really gotten over her. She was the one...or someone pretty close to being the one. Yet I already know she will never look at me as anything more than a good friend. Still, I wonder if there's any truth to what Auntie Carole said when she saw that photo of Denise and I on the phone I lent her during her stay. When she heard my story, Auntie Carole told me not to give up hope and that things may change in the future.

There's something different this time, however. The JM of three months ago would have moped and sulked and wallowed in self-pity about the hopelessness of the situation to no end. I still feel all those emotions now, but I'm strangely detached to them, as if I had taken a shot of novocaine. I feel the distant warm fuzzy happiness of being in love, but a very muted sense of the disappointment as well---so mild, it doesn't even bother me.

I can almost say I don't mind the null possibility of Denise and I ending up together. As long as she is happy and I can remain in her life, I feel I can be content.

Perhaps I've learned to tune out most of the emotional bullshit I used to feed myself so often in the past. Perhaps I've actually grown up a little after all the drama and misery of 2007. So is this what they mean by becoming "emotionally mature?"

Being the animal of emotion I am, this is strange. But I think I can grow to like it.

Because I'm a lovestruck fool like the rest of you...

I don't care if Monday's blue
Tuesday's gray and Wednesday too
Thursday, I don't care about you
It's Friday, I'm in love...
Monday you can fall apart
Tuesday, Wednesday, break my heart
Thursday doesn't even start
It's Friday, I'm in love...

Saturday, wait!
And Sunday always comes too late
But Friday never hesitate

I don't care if Monday's black
Tuesday, Wednesday, heart attack
Thursday, never looking back
It's Friday, I'm in love...

Monday you can hold your head
Tuesday, Wednesday, stay in bed
Thursday, watch the walls instead
It's Friday, I'm in love...

Saturday, wait!
And Sunday always comes too late
But Friday never hesitate

Dressed up to the eyes, it's a wonderful surprise
To see your shoes and your spirits rise
Throwing out your frown and just smiling at the sound
And as sleek as a shriek spinning round and round
Always take a big bite, it's such a gorgeous sight
To see you eat in the middle of the night
You can never get enough, enough of this stuff
It's Friday, I'm in love!

- The Cure, "Friday I'm In Love"

Aftermath, part deux

Aftermath, part deux

Apparently my last post was written a little too early.

On a whim, I tried sending Jona an email two days after we had our little talk. I was not expecting her to reply at all.

Imagine my mild surprise when she wrote back. She was happy I was "back," and just like that, we were talking again. It certainly felt odd and surreal, but I can't say it didn't make my day. I guess I'm very lucky she still indulged me in my request to get to know her better, despite the trouble my stunt had caused.

I'm not being too optimistic, but I just might have a chance with her yet and I have to start by making her comfortable with me. Unfortunately, that means I have to learn how to shut up and hide things, so this is probably the last you'll read about all this.

For once, in my six years of writing, I wish my blog was less conspicuous.

The recent events have got me thinking about just how different I am compared to a lot of people at work. People say I have guts for being as open as I am, revealing this much about myself online. Tita Vik being one of those people, I replied half-jokingly that "guts" is a euphemism for "naivete" or "stupidity."

The truth is, my honesty and openness are two things that tend to get me in trouble. While friends at work say I shouldn't be thinking too much and that I should enjoy, I can't help but think I should start to learn how to put on a few masks. I'm starting to have my fill of being this transparent, especially because now it can have disastrous consequences for other people I care about.

It's a little sad, especially because the origin of the word sincerity is the Latin phrase sine cera---literally, "without wax," and when actors used to wear masks, they were usually made of wax way back when. Unfortunately, it seems things can proceed a little easier at work without being as involved and as honest as I am. It seems I'm the only dinosaur left who hasn't yet learned the lesson that sincerity is a switch that can be turned on and off.

Never too late to start, I suppose. Professionalism and all its obstructive trappings can really suck, but I have to do what the Romans do now that I'm in "Rome" myself.

I did not expect it, but I had a brief taste of one of those things I always wrote about in this blog that I wanted. For a few fleeting moments I became stupidly happy.

My friends have told me it's a little too late for me to get to that point now. But I can't deny I felt some of that unbearable lightness of being, and it's like a really exotic drug.

I want my fix.

But I do have to wonder: how much of it do I have left in the bottle of my life?

Friends say I'll get over you soon
Thoughts of you come back to fill me with gloom
Time forgets, but I'm not over you yet
There's no sense in asking why
Until the tears run dry

There's no one but you on my mind
Searching for a perfect ending that we'll never find
If we could make it work this time

Years have gone by since you've been gone
This broken heart of mine's been waiting too long
All alone, without you I can't carry on
There's no sense in asking why
Until I'm there by your side

There's no one but you on my mind
Searching for a perfect ending that we'll never find
If we could make it work this time
We could plant tomorrow's dreams now together
In a garden to last forever more
All the flow'rs would grow
From the seeds we sow

There's no one but you on my mind
Searching for the perfect ending that we'll never find
If we could make it work this time

There's no sense in asking why
Until the tears run dry
I could be there by your side
If you would only change your mind
If we could make it work this time...

- Swing Out Sister, "You on My Mind"

Aftermath

Aftermath

My mom barged into my room just when I was getting ready to leave for work. She had two shirts in hand, brought here from the US by Uncle Butch’s recent arrival. She wanted me to pick one.

I kept silent, but it was written on my face that I didn’t really have time for this. She left. Don’t you see your timing’s really bad? I muttered under my breath.

I guess I should know, because the same thing happened to me a few days prior.

Jona basically turned me down. As much as I was already anticipating this was what would happen, there’s really nothing much people can do to mitigate the disappointment. She had had a hard time with all the whispers and rumors at work about my stunt on Valentine’s Day, and so wanted to set herself free. I guess now I understand why a lot of my friends don’t mix with co-workers.

Watching my mom leave dejectedly as I had to leave early for the Ash Wednesday mass at work this morning, I realized I had inherited some of her ridiculously lousy timing. I had originally planned to go a little slower, but February 14 came too soon. Valentine’s Day isn’t enough of an excuse, it seems, to go out on a limb and show some people how much you like them.

I am back to my melancholy self, mired in thoughts of unrequited affection and what could have been. I figured the heady rush would have me end up a wreck sooner or later. However, Aileen told me never to regret the roses I gave.

This whole Valentine’s thing is a reprise of what I had with Pam in grade school twelve years ago. I was game, she wasn’t. I do have to say, however, that this was one of the most spontaneous things I’d ever done.

I suppose it was for the best. This had to happen, and despite the frankly ridiculously fitful amounts of sleep I get over the past couple weeks, I guess I’ll be fine. It’s just sad Jona never realized how special she was, always selling herself short, even up to the end when I had already told her otherwise.

The tears have been shed, the frustration already commiserated. I am so, so glad I have friends like Aileen and Tita Vik on my side when I need to return to an even keel.

Now, maybe I can sleep a little better.

I am so, so sick of insomnia.

Time can be a lonely place
An empty space
You don't feel anything
Where there's nowhere else to hide
You can't decide
Is this all there is to life?

If nothing else exists
It wasn't meant to be like this

Where do I go for the rest of my life?
How will I know when tomorrow's impossible
Without your love

Someone say it isn't true
It wasn't you
Soon you'll come back to me
Every time I close my eyes
I see your smile
Everything I believed is gone
If you're not coming back
There's something that I've got to ask

Where do I go for the rest of my life?
How will I know when tomorrow's impossible
Without your love
There's nothing left there to believe in anymore

I can't escape the thought of you in everything I do

Where do I go for the rest of my life?
How will I know when tomorrow's impossible
Without your love

- Swing Out Sister, "Where Do I Go?"

First of summer

First of summer

It’s sure gotten hot all of a sudden. After a couple of weeks of unusual February chill, the summer rushed into our open windows and cars parked outdoors with its stinging heat. The air conditioning of our old Honda struggled to cool the smoldering interior despite being turned up to near-maximum settings.

My grandma and Tita Vik got a two-month-old pug puppy to succeed their big Rottweiler Zero as their house pet. They hadn’t thought of a name yet, but over my grandma’s birthday lunch a while ago, they thought of naming the fawn-colored little guy “Cosme.” What started out as a joke soon turned into reality.

Because of Cosme’s vulnerable little body, they came over our house today to pick up one of our dog cages we used when Chico and Cooper were still small. They were able to see our furry little friends up close and personal and at least had a laugh or two. After they left for home, I had a long-overdue haircut myself as my head of hair’s already too thick for the coming season.

The aftermath of my Valentine’s Day stunt wasn’t as desirable as I had hoped. Increasingly I found myself getting impatient and forgetting the whole rationale behind it, and I guess I started to act strangely. I may even have pressured Jona into talking with me, even if I didn’t mean to. She told me she’d have something to tell me by tomorrow, and to be honest I felt the same sinking sensation of dread all throughout last night.

I’m trying to push this all away by distracting myself. Funnily enough, I found one such distraction this morning, when I decided to check tire pressures and inflate all our spare tires to 36 psi for storage. Odd, but it was effective. Nothing like a little manual labor to get my mind refreshed.

Session three of the Choral Singing Workshop went very well. We now know how to sing the timeless love ballad “Ewan” in four voices. It’s a shame it was Warlito “Potpot” Yalung’s last time teaching us though, as his group, the Philippine Madrigal Singers, had a Visayas-Mindanao tour and someone else would be teaching us next week. He did tell us that the "Madz" were accepting auditions now…but I don’t have illusions of being able to make it there just yet.

On a side note, Aileen told me about her little plan to take us to Puerto Galera on the weekend of March 10. Right now we’re just working out the dates and other details. We already brought it up a month ago, and it’d be fun to get drunk without anyone knowing who I am except my friends. That might just be the place to break my alcohol cherry. I can’t wait. I hope it does push through on the 10th.

Since it’s the onset of summer I think this song is most appropriate for the occasion.

Parked car, this night sky
Makes city lights shine like diamonds
Our song plays on the radio

We’re living it up, make this night ours
We own the world, I wish this lasts forever
Alone with you tonight,
Further in you feels so right

Parked car, this night sky
Makes city lights shine like diamonds
Our song plays on the radio

We’re giving it up and just a little more
This heartfelt leap, I surrender
With arms raised, tonight
Arms raised…

We’re giving it up and just a little more
This heartfelt leap, I surrender
With arms raised, tonight

Anywhere, with you
Anywhere, with you
Anywhere, with you…

Drive me away
‘Cause the night just feels right
Take me away with you tonight
Anywhere, with you

Drive me away
‘Cause the night just feels right
Take me away with you tonight
Anywhere, with you

Parked car, this night sky
Parked car, this night sky
Makes city light shine like diamonds
Our song plays on…

- Urbandub, “First of Summer”

Catharsis?

Catharsis?

Given all the nervousness and frayed nerves I got leading up to it, Valentine's Day actually was a little...anticlimactic.

I left my half-dozen orange roses on Jona's desk at 7:30 a.m. and waited for the minutes to count down before she walked into the door. In the meantime, I kept myself busy with what work I could find at that early hour...which wasn't much.

When she saw the roses and read my letter...I guess she was in shock. We hardly spoke today, except for an SMS message from her. She told me she was surprised, she didn't know how to react, and that maybe we could talk about this when we're both ready.

My sincere reply: I'll wait. I'm just happy you appreciated it.

I just hope I didn't scare her off. I hope this doesn't mean we'd get more awkward around each other than we've already been.

The funny thing about this whole stunt is that absolutely no one at work suspects it was I who gave Jona her roses, apart from the few people who already knew about it. Owning up to it now doesn't seem like a good idea. She's a shy girl at heart, I suppose, and I guess I've also worn the deed quite well. Maybe it was for the best that I did this as quietly as I could.

Other than my flowers and letter for Jona, and the accompanying Valentine's traffic in the evening, for the most part this was a normal day.

Now all I can really do is wait. I don't know how long it takes, but I will wait for her.