Blowing Candles

Parties and presents. Cakes and candles. Greetings and gifts. Yes, it was… my birthday. It was my 32nd birthday. Yes, 32 years on the face of the Earth. I’m not ashamed to say I’m 32. Not one little bit. Not at all.

But with my birthday always being strewn between several other occasions, like Labor Day, the elections, Mother’s Day, both my parents’ birthdays, and several others, it was never really a big deal. And I liked it that way. Was this year any different?

Before, it’d be easy to get greetings personally or via mobile. But this was my first birthday post-Facebook, where Facebook takes all the work out of trying to remember everybody’s birth dates. So, though supposedly expected, I am astounded that I got tons of greetings. Yes allow me some room for pride, but I was absolutely amazed!

Of course, family. I was happy to hear from my sister who I haven’t talked to in a while. Then there was my pozzie posse and other pusits who shouted out. There were old friends from school, even way back elementary... oi, history. Some greeting from those who were more than friends, from former fuck buddies, guys I dated, crushes, ex-boyfriends, and lo and behold, even an ex-girlfriend! I know… GASP! Hell, even Cebuana Lhuillier greeted me... I used to frequent Cebuana when I used to send cash to Baby Nathan and others who needed help. Hehehe.

The day itself was not meant to be a biggie. Because there was no longer such a thing as birthday leave for me, I was at work. I wasn’t planning on a blow out or anything, but my gurl friend in the office arrived with a cake in hand with my name written all over it. Aww... both the cake and the gesture… sweet. So sweet.

Over lunch, I got asked what I had planned for the day. Nothing really. No dinner, no nothing. They had to cheer me on though. “Birthday sex! Birthday sex!” Hahaha. Not that I was pressured. But I wish. I wish.

I had been texting earlier with the guy I had been dating this past week. Initially, he suggested we’d celebrate together Saturday night, but I’d already made plans with the pozzie posse. I asked him what he was doing that evening. He said he was free. I took a leap. “Then you’re mine tonight.” Was that me? Was that me?

Figuring out where to meet, we decided on somewhere halfway between our respective workplaces. But the meeting area being near his place and his offer to take me home after just didn’t make any wholesome sense. Gulp. I know my logic was rocked, but oddly, I was still a go.

So we met at Shangri-la, and like the heavens were on my side, we got there within minutes of each other, and actually bumped into each other without having to agree on where exactly we’d meet. From there, it was dinner at California Pizza Kitchen. It was penne for me, ravioli for him, and focaccia between to two of us. Absomalutely yummy. Agh. Both Italian boys we are. We are.

Frozen yogurt was next. Coconut for him, New York Cheesecake for me. Still felt sinful for yogurt. And with that, there were loads of calories to burn. He took me for a walk. A couple of blocks in, I knew I wasn’t heading home. I put my arm around his shoulder, my way of telling him I had no fear. No fear. And a couple of blocks more, he held my hand in the dark of the night. That told me, we’re okay. We’re okay.

We got to his place and settled into his room. All sweaty from the walk. Both of us. I love a guy who sweats. Because I sweat. A lot. Sitting down and cooling off, he stripped down to his skivvies. He said it was hot. Yeah, right. And although we’d been flirting a lot in recent days, I still needed that cue. That cue. That cue.

Okay, just to make things clear, this was someone who knew about my HIV status. Hell, he knew so much about me there wasn’t much left to hide. So he knew exactly what he was getting into seducing me into bed. And to me that’s hot.

It was hot indeed, so I took my shirt off. We hugged. We sat facing each other. He leaned over and we kissed. And two hours later, we were plopped on the bed, spent. Both spent. Two hours?! I know...

We both washed up, dressed up. He drove me home, and dropped me off as we kissed goodbye. I believe I got home around 11:00 pm, the only time I drank my ARVs since I ignored my alarm when it rang while we were in the middle of things. And with that I basked in what he calls a post-coital glow that was expected to last a good three hours.

I know some of you might think it’s just sex. Just sex. But sex is a huge thing for me. I have absolutely no qualms about having it on a first date. So this time, three wholesome dates before getting it on was quite different. Quite different.

Sex. It’s usually a make or break thing for me. But it’s not like I want a certain type of guy or expect certain sizes or demand certain acts. I mean, yeah, I have preferences, I have preferred roles, I have my fetishes and kinks, but they’re not carved in stone.

It’s more on chemistry for me. The comfort. Someone who knows what he wants? Great. Someone without hang-ups? Perfect. Personally and sexually, I’m really more of a pleaser. It ain’t about me getting pleasure. Having my partner drowning in ecstasy does it for me. Satisfying someone satisfies me. Part of the masochist in me, I think. I think.

For a first time for us, it wasn’t bad at all. Yeah, of course we did have to figure each other out somehow, and getting there after a single sessions is a lot to ask for. But our still keeping in touch even after the deed seems like a good sign. A good sign.

And for a first time for me in what... eight months?! OMG eight months without sex?! What kind of life is that to live? Hehehe. Well it was a choice for me. And for this kind of a birthday milestone to break my sexless streak... rigid candles blown till the hot wax flowed... not bad at all. Not bad at all.

So there, that was my looooong birthday day. Too bad it fell on a Thursday, otherwise I could’ve extended it into the early morn. Of course I needed to go to work the next day, albeit hungover not from alcohol but from a lack of sleep… and of course, basking in that afterglow. That afterglow. That afterglow. What a gift. What a gift. The afterglow of candles blown.