Ol' Friend

It was January 5th, the first working day after the long holiday break. The day started out slow, as did the week, and though I did get some work done, I admit my mind was still in vacation mode.

The day went by faster than expected, and nothing unusual really happened. At least not until the last few minutes of my work day. Something just left me speechless, and in a daze.

It was my fault really, I just had to check my personal e-mail account before heading home. I found some of my usual friend requests from a personals site, but like a sore thumb, one message stood out. It was an alert that I had a message waiting at another personals site. I hadn’t been very active there lately, so I really wasn’t getting or expecting any messages at all. And curiously, and foolishly, I clicked.

Just three words. Three simple words that threw my world out of orbit. I’m single now. I remember saying to myself, Oh fuck.

It came from, let’s just say, an Ol' Friend. I met my Ol' Friend back in 2007, just after I broke up with my last boyfriend. As usual, we fucked on the first date. It was a no strings attached thing, but we ended up enjoying each other’s company, both in and out of bed. What was supposed to be a fuck and run, ended up with me hanging out at his place for the morning and reporting for work at lunch time. We clicked so much that we ended up hanging out a lot after that. I’d hang out at this Ole Friend’s place, we’d have drinks together, I’d sleep over, we’d fuck a lot, and talk about every thing under the sun for hours and hours at a time. Did I mention we fucked a lot?

We were good together. The one catch, my Ol' Friend was courting someone. It wasn’t really a problem for me, because I’d just gotten out of a relationship, and actually chose to give myself some time to stay single. And I knew I was comfortable with the set-up because I was totally okay with talking about his special someone. But not for long.

Months of being together-but-not-together passed by, and I realized I was falling for my Ol' Friend. After hearing how his special someone would treat him, I knew I could do better. But it was not to be. My Ole Friend chose to be mistress to his someone, who incidentally was mistress to someone else, than to have me all to himself. But I wasn’t planning on being a tertiary level mistress in one hell of an entangled love web. So I said, we’d be nothing more than friends.

I knew I’d fallen for him, because it hurt like hell. But I didn’t let it show. I sucked it up and kept on going. Believe me, my theme song was Kung Ako Na Lang Sana. We would still hang out together, and do everything else we used to do. But I made sure sex was a no-no. I never even knew I had that much pride in me. We’d sleep together, but nothing more. Just sleep sleep. On some nights, he’d try to make a move, but I would always say no. Gosh, it’s fucking hard to say no.

Like I said, we carried on. He just liked me sooo much. When he was lonely, all he needed to do was lay a guilt trip on me, and I’d be there in a flash. I was a stand-in, when his boyfriend wasn’t around. When they’d be fighting, I’d be there to lean on. When he’d want to go clubbing in Malate, I’d be his designated buddy. And mind you, Malate is NOT my kind of place. Hell, I became such a pushover that I even cleaned up when he puked all over his place after a long night of drinking. And even if he got mad and almost drove me out of his place from embarrassment after that, I didn’t mind. Think doormat. Think panakip-butas.

I was unappreciated, and he knew it. That was apparent when he told me I deserved more love from him than what his boyfriend was getting. But he made clear he couldn’t give it to me. That sucked. But more than that, it hurt and it made me cry. A classic case of consuelo de bobo.

I don’t remember how exactly it ended, but I think I missed sleeping in my own bed and being alone so much, and probably had enough of the partying and the drinking, that decided to fade away. I needed to take care of myself again.

I think I last saw this Ol' Friend in December of 2007, long before my plight with HIV began. He doesn’t know how much I’ve been through since that time. The only thing he’s heard from my side is an anonymous text message telling him to get tested for HIV. Yes, he’s one of the lucky ones who got it. I don’t know exactly what he did with it, but he should’ve gotten it.

For the past couple of months though, this Ol' Friend has been trying to make contact. Via e-mail and my guys4men account, and even through friendster. All I’ve been doing is deleting his messages. Apparently he’d lost my mobile number, which is fortunate for the hiding game I’ve been playing.

Up until that fateful day when I read those three words, I’m single now. And all I’m thinking is It’s too late. Things have changed. I’ve changed. Why me? Why now?

It took me the whole week to have the guts to face those three words again. The only reply I could manage was I’m sorry to hear that. What happened? Consider it as half being concerned, half acting unassuming and half confining it to small talk. See, even my math is fucked up.

I know I’m miles away from telling him about my HIV, but I did the least possible for old times’ sake. Let’s just say I didn’t have a choice, and couldn’t act like I didn’t care. Maybe he deserves an explanation? Maybe he doesn’t? Maybe I deserve an explanation? Maybe I don't? Who knows? I don’t know how this chapter is going to unravel.