Tang-in-Emo

This will be an emo post. Consider yourself warned.

I always pride myself with being a natural loner, not needing anyone to complete me. I guess it’s still true. But, man, I can’t deny I’d love to have five fingers to weave into my own, along with the hand and the arm and the rest of the person of course.

Okay, I admit, I’m miserably single right now.

Initially, when I decided to get tested for HIV, other than the fact that I just wanted to know, it was supposed to be my turning point – my turning point towards getting back on the righteous path again. Relatively righteous, that is.

You see, ever since, I was a serial relationship-guy. Note that I didn’t say “serial monogamist”, because I’d be a hypocrite to claim that. I mean to say that I’d been getting into relationship after relationship since my first boyfriend back when I was 21. I don’t really know if I fall easily or just can’t pass up the chance to get to know a guy better, but I preferred to be in relationships rather that make the rounds and sleep around. As such, I felt I never gave myself time to just hook up as hooking up is meant to be.

So after my last relationship back in 2007, I decided I’d give myself a break. I made the conscious decision not to jump into the next possible relationship right away. It was a commitment in itself... to myself. I meant it so badly that I got myself a ring – a symbol of my commitment to myself – an ode to singlehood.

Between that time and the time I got tested, I was literally slutting around. I had regular fuck buddies who kept me busy, more that I’d ever been. I admit, there were times that the potential for a relationship came up, but I treated those as mere temptation, and brushed past them soon enough.

It was in 2008 that I met one guy who caused me to consider getting back into relationship mode again. And based on mere potential, I decided that enough was enough. I felt I’d exhausted the meat market more than I needed to.

And so, to mark a turning point in my life, I got tested. I dreamt of offering myself completely and purely to the guy, and living happily ever after. Indeed, a turning point it was. But not in the way I’d imagined, as I tested positive for HIV. I needed to tell this guy, in order for him to get tested, but that was practically the end of it, as all he could give was support, and his interest in me died down.

Of course testing positive threw me off a bit, I admit. But I never strayed too far from the desire to get back into a relationship again. And there have been a lot of guys who I thought I got along well with... well enough to imagine having a relationship with them.

Of course, at this point, one primary requirement would be that they know my status. It’s part of me now. Package deal. I can’t say that it’s been the deal-breaker in all cases. But at times when it’s not, I can’t help but think it’s just pity that’s taking these guys over. All the more when they eventually fade away. Am I lucky that I have HIV to blame?

There are a few, though, who I have perfect chemistry with, and who have absolutely no problem with my HIV status. But sadly, we seem to always be... uhm, geographically-challenged. Sigh.

So with all that, I’m still miserably single. Okay, maybe not miserably single. Just single. Inggit lang ako, bakit ba?

So now, my dilemma. Now I’m not speaking of anyone in particular, okay, mostly because there is no one in particular to speak of. Consider this an open letter.

Considering that you love someone, you’d like to see him or her happy. Seeing him or her happy makes you happy. You want the best for that person you care for. But what if you don’t feel that you’re the best one? What if you know that person will be happier with someone else? Can you be truly, truly happy for him or her?

‘Tang inang pag-ibig yan, o.

Okay, emo ends here. Hehehe.