Okay, I totally wanted to just stick with the cryptic past entry, and feel satisfied with just blogging a little slice of the pie, a subtle hint somewhat. But the writer in me just itches to hash out every mundane detail of today. Maybe I won't end up doing that, but still, I will write.
Because I want to gloat. Because it's not everyday that I can write about a wondrous, vital, and simple happiness as this; nothing makes me incoherent and frankly, resemble a simpleton, as unadulterated happiness. I can fill this blog up with a million smileys and leave at that, because it's the essence of every single word I will consequently type out anyway. But I won't, cause I want to preserve this moment of sheer un-Nina-like giddiness for posterity with more than just goddamn emoticons. And please, I deserve a happy blog after the sorry excuse of muck and darkness this LJ has been for the past few posts. So, let me be happy and juvenile and incoherent. I guess that's what I want to be all the time everyday, if possible.
Can I just say that it's nice to be chosen, for one? It feels good. Seeing as how (I thought) he has stomped on my pride for quite a long while, it's nothing short of great that it's all been just a tangle of misconceptions, wrong expectations, and every little thought we allowed to worm inside our heads. Maybe it's time to tell a little bit about him. The two of us together seemed impossible right from the start: age gap, occupational differences (BIG BIG DIFFERENCE), every little thing that I was intimidated of. My friends have been asking me, "So what do you guys talk about?" in a tone that suggests that we have
nothing to talk about. But when I got past the superficial differences, there was a lot of common ground after all. He's smart, funny, creative, ridiculous in many ways, thoughtful, nerdy, awkward, heartfelt - just what the doctor prescribed. The age gap also had its advantages, inclusive of but not limited to smarter conversations. WE TALK, A LOT. Did I mention, he's into film! And a lot of other things I love. We could watch Depeche Mode mtv's on his laptop all night and feel perfectly content. I love how we trade books, DVDs, art, music - he's the (feeling) cultured best friend with whom I widened my cultural repertoire with, giving life a sort of wideness and a feeling of possibility with every discovery made. He was the type to fall in love with a guy's voice too, say, Robert Plant, Matt Berninger, Terry Reid, etc, and consequently made me fall in love with them too. There is nothing like music-tripping in his car. (Which is also a plus, bimmers are love!) I made him watch Arashi videos and he almost had a seizure, but he nonetheless watched with me as I fangirl-ed to my heart's content about the merits of Ohno's voice and Sho's overall perfectness and how a guy should be exactly like that...he sat through the painful ordeal.
His reaction to Arashi videos:"Boys shouldn't wear jeans as tight as that. At bakit white?" (Love So Sweet PV. HAHAHAHA)
"Real men don't have hairstyles that need blowdrying."
"Holy shit that dance move is so gay. This is what turns you on??? I think mapapahamak yata ako sa'yo."
I WAS TOTALLY LAUGHING MY HEART OUT AT HIS PAIN. He had so much complaints but he still watched with me like a boyscout and...it kind of made me love him a little bit more. Oh! We watched Hana Yori Dango too one slow afternoon. He thinks he's Hanazawa Rui with Domyouji's swagger. I patted his knee and told him, "No one's that perfect." And yes, he gave some "lowly" constant favorites of mine, like Jason Mraz, P.O.T, and Coldplay, a chance, the music snob that he is. ANO, THEY'RE GOOD NOH.
But then anyone can like the same music that I do or talk about films, read the same books...in the end it doesn't matter.
Tell me one true thing, and I'm yours. That's all there is to it really. It was just the simple fact that...I like him. And he likes me. And everything just feels...real. Also, more grown-up than any relationship I've had before, definitely.
I remember having this moment in the car with him. One of those early moments that no one forgets. My iPhone was plugged into his sound system, and I started playing a song. This perfect trippy melody came on, and we were just kind of into it both. Then the singing starts. I started singing, "I don't want to be your friend..." which he continues, "I just want to be your lover" while touching my hand. And I just laughed like a total bimbo. He was like, "Ano?" I just smiled, "Wala." Then he held my hand all throughout Radiohead's House of Cards, all throughout the drive. Hindi ko alam kung bakit hindi kami nabangga, but there you go. First time to hold hands. The only first time story I'm sharing haha.
And even beyond all those things. It's not even about the common ground anymore. It became about how we dealt about being so similar. We both love our freedom dearly, and held no one accountable for the things we felt, or wanted to say or said.
There was a struggle to understand what we both wanted from each other when the very qualities that we liked about each other polarized us, like his knack of being very existentialist with his thoughts ("The other can never be possessed') that it drove me crazy. He seemed like the neo-Jean-Paul Sartre. Does that make me Simone de Beauvoir, putting up with his fanciful and adulterous nature? HAHAHA. Well, I exaggerated that. But he was certainly hard to pin down in such a way that he allowed me all the liberties I wanted, seeming like he couldn't care one bit about how I spent my life. I live and think the same way, and at first, it was the perfect set-up. But I started to despise it, because at some point, I started wanting him. Nothing more of the gritty details, I guess we have come into terms about who we are and what we want, in the end
We were in Starbucks today, having brunch. And after talking about what seemed like ages since the last time (well, after that Cinemalaya hulabaloo), we finally cleared things up, and manned up about how we really felt. I said I felt lame about wanting him this badly, and always being happy when I'm with him, him, of all people. He hugged me, and told me...
HAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Yes. Kind of like a scene from a painful romantic comedy that you just wanted to end. It was part painful, part hilarious, part cheesy. But painful, hilarious, and cheesy work for me. Yes they do! :) How could I have said no, my friends know I had my eyes on him the first time I saw him. My pride shudders to admit that out loud, but let's just say I know what I want when I see it. It's just one of those instant zinger moments that turned out to be my intuition telling me way before my heart could catch up that "You two will make good-looking babies." "Here is someone you might not want to ignore."
When he left for Hong Kong, I thought it was over. But he came back. And he's here beside me, all flesh and blood, racing thoughts and beautiful intent. I can hug him, kiss him, and maybe it's time I stop hiding it. What is there to hide? I'm done with the judgment and the snide looks. There are no rules against us. That's something I have decided.
I'm happy - he's the best reason to be shamelessly happy. I'm looking forward to introducing him to my college barkada, some who have "met" him under, err, weird circumstances. But this time he's my boyfie! HAHA. And of course to my CSA friends. I never introduce to them guys that I'm not serious about, so the fact that I can't wait to do so is a fact that makes perfect sense.
Hey lover. Again, I know you're reading this. It's okay to feel kilig. Please be kalbo again for me, even though I love your Frodo locks.
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