Bitch in Love

Yes, I dare say it... LOVE.

He’s my type. Nice built. Clean cut. Those eyes. That smile. Discreet, but carefree. An amicable aura. A great sense of humor. He’s so much my type that he was the type that could easily intimidate me. The type that I’d usually consider way out of my league and just settle on admiring from afar.

It was funny how Papi and I started. Like I said before, I’d seen him at the RITM a lot, but hardly ever got to talk with him. He was just too bibo for a shy guy like me. Although, looks-wise, he did always get my attention.

The only real time I got to know him was when he was out of the country. I don’t recall exactly how, but we became avid chatmates on YM. Nothing romantic. I was a friend. No showbiz. He was going through a cool off with his boyfriend at the time, and was set on wooing him back. I was trying to coach him through it, especially during the times that he was down.

Evidence of our friendship was the fact that he was totally honest with me… about his good and bad sides. I felt his remorse and his sincerity. He became someone who I just wished to see happy. And at that time, I knew getting back together with his boyfriend would make him extremely happy.

Sadly, it didn’t seem likely. It broke my heart hearing how sad he was. I remember, on my birthday, he poured his heart out online to me. It didn’t ruin my day. I was just glad to be there for him, and appreciated how he shared his feelings. Somewhere along the way, I knew I loved this guy.

Upon his return to the country, he was planning to meet his new ex-boyfriend one last time at the same place where they first met. It was one last chance to win him back. I imagined that, at best, it would be so kilig to the bones. But he had one request… for me to be in the area on that same day and time, in case things didn’t make a turn for the best, and he needed to be “saved”. I was honored.

But as things turned out, that day never came. Circumstances brought him to realize he had done enough wooing. So instead, he promised we’d go out together sometime, his way of thanking me for the support that I had given him.

It was August that we first met since he came back. I was at the RITM with some newbies, while he had an appointment with the dermatologist. We didn’t spend much time together because I couldn’t leave my troops. But Papi and I did hug, and I got a peck on the cheek to my surprise. It still makes me smile to read the text message he sent after that. He used the words OA and sobra to describe how happy he was to see me. I may just have been happier.

After that, we sort of played around online. He told me to add him as my in-a-relationship-with guy on Facebook, and he added me too. It was funny how people were so surprised by that little move. We were honestly just playing around. But when asked if it was true, if we were serious, and how it happened, we just honestly attributed it to love. Friends should love each other, right?

I wasn’t going to fall in love with Papi. I already was. I know at some point, I questioned myself. Was it all really just a game? Why was I secretly wishing he’d love me for real? I was. I really was. And getting messages from Papi saying, “Walang divorce sa Philippines. Lagot ka.” just made me more confused. Were we, or weren’t we? No courtship ensued, no questions were asked, and no answers given.

A time soon came when temptations were coming my way one after another. Invitations to have sex with this guy and that. But I was happy with Papi. Would it make sense to prematurely commit to exclusively dating him? Was I assuming too much?

I took a chance. I sent him a message. “Ok lang ba kung loyal na lang ako sa iyo?” I cringed upon sending it. I feared that I’d look stupid and that he’d laugh at me. But looking stupid and being laughed at is nothing new to me. So I said how I felt. His reply almost made me cry. “Dapat lang!” And with that, B.I.T.C.H. was a good boy... and for good reason.

Our Kimmy Dora date came along in September. The misunderstanding we got into before our date was a milestone. I was shocked at how affected he was. And I was shocked at how affected I was that he was. Friends shouldn’t be like this, I remember thinking to myself. So many questions needed answers. And the kisses, hugs, and other displays of affection that peppered our Kimmy Dora date gave me some answers.

If you noticed, I never ever said we were in love. Or that we were a couple. We were dating, yes. Certainly, I had fallen for him. I loved him. And he loved me... as a friend at least. It wasn’t my assumption to make whether he was in love with me. But I was sure I was happy.

I am happy. Even if we live on opposite ends of the metropolis, I’m happy. Even if, as evidenced by Ondoy and Pepeng, the heavens always ruin our plans of meeting up, I’m happy. Even if we didn’t see each other for more than a month, I’m happy. But I missed the guy. And it takes a lot for me to miss someone. Despite that, I admit, this was still the most secure I’ve ever felt in any relationship. “Patience, my love,” he’d remind me.

Thankfully, we got a chance to see each other again at the RITM Halloween bash. Take note, this was just to be our second “date”. I could’ve seriously broken down upon seeing him after such a long time. But I kept it together.

Though we couldn’t stop our usual PDA, I could say we weren’t too clingy. Yeah, I sat on a beanbag with him sprawled between my legs for a time. We did hold hands and did manage a number of smacks in public. We only kissed torridly twice, I think, first behind a closed door with one other person in the room, and second out in the moonlit parking lot before we parted ways. Of course, I admit I racked up enough hugs to make up for the more than a month’s wait. But we were far from clingy. Otherwise, we wouldn’t need to send winks and kisses from across the room, right?

It’s weird. It’s different. We haven’t exactly been celebrating monthsaries, nor giving flowers, cards or chocolates. And we haven’t even gotten to the sex part either, which for me, is sooo different. But the attraction is there… on my part at least. Roar!

But still, it’s nice. We each have our own lives, but I cherish what time we spend together immensely. It’s comfortable. No pressure. No burden. No leash. It’s happy. I think it all boils down to the fact that I just want him to be happy. And if I would be an instrument in that happiness, I’d be honored. And the happiness, his and mine, does make things all worthwhile. Hay... I love the guy.