An ordinary weekday morning. I hopped on a bus on my way to work, all seats were taken. I stood in the aisle. I took a seat that became available at the rearmost of the bus. I was followed by others who had just gotten on.
And then, of course, as buses are somehow the root of some worldly desires for me, it got weird.
A guy took one of the other seats in the six-man row I was in. My peripheral vision was teasing me. Was he looking at me? I’m oddly visually challenged. I’m far-sighted. So I can’t really scout out guys who are seated too near. Or I just don’t really want to seem too obvious. Hmm.
As people got off along the way, I was able to transfer to the two-seater just ahead. I still felt like I was being watched. It was just him left in the row behind me. He was oddly leaning forward foregoing comfort for something else. But a lady was seated across from me, which may have been stopping him from making a move. Or I was just being too presumptuous.
We had reached Shaw Boulevard, and I felt him gathering his things. He slid over to the aisle. I felt his hand on my headrest. I heard a piece of paper. Then a couple of taps. I was intrigued but remained unobvious, both to him and the lady seated across. He got up and headed up front to get off. I tried looking out the window to see if he’d give one last glance, but didn’t spot him.
So what was that? Was he indeed trying to show interest? I remembered the sound of paper I heard. I ran my hand up the headrest and took a piece of paper slipped into it. It was a bus ticket. Today’s date, the fare, the origin and the destination. At the back, a name and mobile number was scribbled.
I had all the options in the world. I could have thrown it away. But then, of course, I’m a pleaser. I had a chance to make someone happy. How could I just ignore the guy? A guy who did not shove my face into his crotch on the first bus ride for a change? So yes… I sent a text message to the number.
And then the exchange began. He was relieved that I noticed the little message he left in the bus. Naman! I’m not that dense. With that, we became text mates. We’d text daily, at least mere good mornings or what not. This went on for a number of weeks. Maybe a month.
One Saturday morning, I was on my usual mall routine with my mom. At the hardware section, while looking at rechargeable lamps, my eyes caught a glimpse of someone. A guy. Tall, dark and neat, built with a little bit extra. We just stared at each other, short of saying “You look familiar,” “Where do I know you from,” and “Is that you?“ It was him. We didn’t talk or anything. We just texted.
At some point during that text conversations, I realized how ridiculous it was for us to be relying on chance to see one another. So I suggested that we plan out the next time we’d bump into each other. He agreed.
August crept in. And upon establishing the common point of our respective daily commutes, we agreed to meet and share rush hours. I arrived at the bus stop first, he came in a bit. Must’ve been funny seeing two grown men who couldn’t wipe the smiles off their faces.
We hailed a bus that would run our common route. We took seats beside each other. Sometime during the trip, he took my hand and held it the rest of the way, not even minding if other people would see. Cool. It was really nice having a hand to hold through traffic. There was a movie playing on the bus, too. Vic Sotto and Rosanna Roces. Basta Ikaw, Nanginginig Pa. Oy, is this a sign from the heavens? Not really. We were really without the kilig of it all because we were giggling at how ridiculous the movie was. He tapped my leg before getting off at his stop.
The next day, same thing. We rode together. Same bus line. No Pinoy movie this time, which we giggled about again. Again he had my hand firmly in his. Rush hour again. Traffic again. He got to his stop again, and tapped my leg. As he stood up he looked at me, sort of waiting for me to say something or wanting to say something himself. I’m sure I had a confused look on my face. He leaned in and gave me a smack on the lips. And then he turned and trudged to the front of the bus to get off, not even looking back.
Wait... what just happened? But no more confusion, I had a smirk on my face by this time.
I got a text message from him shortly.
“Ingatz”
“Ikaw rin. Hmp nanggugulat ka. Hahaha.”
“Hahaha… Nakuha ko ba sa bilis?”
“Oo. Kung Pinoy movie yun, dapat sasampalin pa kita. Hahaha.”
“Hehehe… Sige di na nga maulit.”
“Oo. Di na mauulit na magugulat ako.”
“Hahaha… So laging ready ka na?”
“O baka ikaw na magulat. Sige. Ingat ka ha.”
The next day, same thing. Without the movie. And without the smack. He didn’t even hold my hand. I felt he was teasing me. So I took initiative and grabbed his hand. Hmp, akala mo makakatakas ka ha. So there. We were officially bus buddies, and this was our daily routine. I felt like I had a date every single day. I did, sort of.
Okay, fine, we haven’t always been that patweetums. I think there’ve been three occasions that he holds my hand and leads it towards his crotch for me to feel his erection through his slacks. But that’s the farthest we’ve gone. Nope, he still hasn’t shoved my face into his pubes. But he’s managed to keep me curious as to what’s down there. Wholesome, but naughty.
As of this writing we’re still on it... our daily date. I think in almost a month, we’ve missed just three or four days, but I liked how the days we missed together aren’t a big deal. Because on days we were together, the least we’d be is just napping in the bus holding hands. Nice.
Basically, we're barely past being acquiantances. I don't know his surname. Not even his real name. I don't know what he does, nor does he know what I do. And no, I haven't told him the virally significant secret that I hide. Not like he'll catch anything by holding my hand.
So there, now you know my bus buddy. We’re not a couple. No commitment. No I-love-yous. Just something comfortable. And major-major safe. A huge ego boost, for me, at least. Nice. Really nice. And naughty too sometimes.
Isn’t life great? And aren’t buses too?
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Bus Buddy
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Boy Friday on a Monday
It was a Monday. And I had a date first thing in the morning.
A date?
On a Monday?
First thing in the morning?
Five years ago, I met this guy through one of the personals sites. His apartment just happened to be halfway between where I lived and where I used to work. I remember it was a Friday morning that I first agreed to go to his place to meet him. And again, it was another case of sex on the first date. We were a perfect match... which wasn’t surprising because we had settled all the sexual logistics already online. So it was natural that that first meeting would not be our last.
We continued meeting almost every Friday after. I remember getting so attached to him, thinking it was something more than just sex. So much so that when he warned me not to fall in love with him, I admit, I did shed some tears… but I made sure he never knew. I understood. Well, not really... but it was clear from the beginning that no promises were made between us, and no expectations needed to be justified. It became clearer later on when he admitted... that he was in a relationship. Yep, I was a third party.
So what? I think we enjoyed each other’s company enough to continue seeing each other. I respected that he had a boyfriend on at least six of the seven days every week, but yep, he was still my boy-Friday.
So this went on for a number of months. With week after week passing by, it became apparent it indeed was more than just sex. I remember he’d confide in me about the relationship he was in, and come to me when he had problems, but he also did his part, even coming condole with us at my dad’s wake. I definitely didn’t feel like I was just a mistress. We were friends.
Even when boy-Friday left to work abroad, we were able to keep in touch. The world-wide web made it easy. He’d share with me how homesick he was and how tough a time he was having, and I just listened. Until the time came that I needed him to listen too... I told him I found out I was HIV-positive.
Of course the ease with which I told him may have been brought about by the relationship we had built, plus the fact that we hadn’t been with each other for years, making it was almost impossible for me to have put him at any risk. It was just an FYI. An honest answer to the question "How’ve you been?".
I still haven’t erased the message he sent after I told him. "Well, for what its worth, di ako nandidiri, and it hasn’t changed my attitude towards you. You’re still one damn hot guy for me." (insert blush here...) "And above all, I still care for you... and of course I still would want to see you... Hello?! As if naman I’ll get AIDS if I touch you or kiss you... not ignorant here." This guy... he was just the sweetest.
Latest news, he was back in the country. We still were in touch, and he did still express interest in seeing me again, but I admit, I was skeptical. Another is-this-guy-for-real moment. So for over half a year, I’ve managed to avoid meeting up with him. But his persistence was admirable. He finally caught me online this weekend.
"It’s making me think hard, _____. We have a lot in common... and in most respects we are compatible. Hay... I hate myself for what has become of us... I know it was entirely my fault. Darn!" he said. I was drawn aback. Regret? No way. Blaming him was the farthest thing from my mind. I admit thinking that if we had gotten together back then, things may have been different. But I have no regrets. This was meant to be. We were meant to be where we are now.
After a short chat, we’d established that he now lived nearby to where I now work. And with that, I no longer had an alibi. I admit, I did want to see him... half to be with him and make sure he was doing well, and half to show him I was doing well, too. But it just wasn’t that easy for me. I’m glad he was persistent. I needed that push.
So Monday morning, I went my usual route, but got off a few blocks from where I usually do when on the way to work. I walked up to his building... but not without assessing how I was feeling. Nope, unlike my usual EBs, I wasn’t nervous. I was relaxed, surprisingly... and excited.
I buzzed his door and waited... there he was in just a white shirt and a pair of shorts… dressed down but hot as ever. Even with five years added to the board, he was still hot as hell... hotter even. He led me into his bedroom, and sat me down on his bed... and we got to do it... we got to catch up, that is. We were just sitting there, watching So You Think You Can Dance on the tellie, just talking, reminiscing, giggling, and laughing. At times, we held hands and lay in each other’s arms... just like we did before.
If I was to say we were totally wholesome, I’d be lying. But other than some playful teasing, touching, licking and kissing, I can swear on my father’s grave that we did not have sex... of course, to me it’s just not officially sex if no one ejaculates... so there, you have an idea. TMI? Oopsy.
Anyway, after about an hour, I made my gracious exit. I needed to report to work, of course. So we sealed the morning with a huge, tight hug... and with that I was to have a great day and week ahead.
Looking back, I can confidently say that I wasn’t there to look for romance or demand for a commitment or anything of that sort. It was a different kind of commitment, I guess... just two people reminding each other that they remain... two people rekindling an old friendship... two people continuing their journey through thick and thin.
Boy Friday on a Monday... I love it.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Prospectus Interruptus
Okay, maybe I went too far with the sex thing in my last entry. I managed to leave BlackPool speechless, didn’t I? That’s extreme. But you seemed to like it so much, and the fates were in on it so much that, there just happened to be 69 visitors on that day! I swear, I was laughing my ass off!
While we’re on the subject of sex, let’s delve a bit more. You ready?
It was one issue how much sex I’ve been getting, or how little for that matter, depending on how you see things. But it’s a whole other story how HIV affects the entire prospect of having sex.
As you noticed in my previous entry, of the 20 guys I’ve managed to have sex with after finding out I was HIV positive, only one guy knew I was. One of twenty? That’s like what? A measly 5%? And that one person just happened to be HIV positive, too. So that’s such a unique case. So does letting guys know I have HIV really devastate my prospects of having sex? Or have I just been too selfish or too good at keeping my little secret?
Let’s look at the numbers. There are around 20 guys I’ve known since before my HIV thing who have heard the news straight from me. And allow me the chance to be confident enough to say that, if I wasn’t HIV positive, all these guys would still be getting their freak on with me.
Of these 20, only 7 of them have expressed interest in still having sex with me after finding out I was poz. And of these 7 pledges of sex, I only choose to believe 2 of them. The 5 others, I feel, resorted to telling this little white lie, out of pity probably, so as not to hurt an already sick guy’s feelings. Yeah, their statements were I’d still like to do it with you or We can still do it safely anyways, but heaven knows those were their last words and I haven’t heard from them since.
So where does that leave me? A success rate of 0%, which seems hardly a success, to a maximum of 10%. And I could only wish that’s because I was being choosy. And considering these are guys who have known me before, there should be this for-old-times’-sake factor at my advantage, but still, barely anything. How much smaller will my chances be with those guys who I haven’t met before if I told them?
I guess the only consolation is that I manage to do these guys good by encouraging them to get tested and to really consider safer sex from now on. Hell, some of them have sworn off sex entirely! But I’m not completely convinced that I should be flattered.
I know some of you are flabbergasted by how sex is such an important issue to me. I admit. It is. Like I said before, sex was my vice. Sex was my therapy. It was my niche. It was the one thing I finally found I was good at. And now, it just feels like it’s being taken away from me, because of something new that has become part of me.
Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not blaming anyone for all this. It’s just how the cards have been dealt. But I’d just like to put some sense into the reality of the fear and stigma attached to HIV. Now you know why it’s not entirely easy for me to tell just anyone that I am HIV positive.
But I’m not losing hope. Maybe when people become more properly informed about HIV, I’ll be able to definitively say that sex and HIV can indeed go hand in hand. Someday. Someway.
But for now, I’m just thankful for the little opportunities I’ve been lucky enough to get. At least I haven’t been forced to quit cold turkey, in spite of HIV.
To finish off, let me just say to these guys, It’s your loss, not mine. Hahaha. C’mon! Just give me this chance to sour grape... Please? Thanks!
Friday, June 27, 2008
Yahoo!
I apologize. I’ve been meaning to blog since yesterday, but never got the time, nor the energy, until today. Finally.
I do have something big to write about. Well, it's big to me, at least.
Yesterday brought some news, the best I've gotten in the very recent past.
Let me introduce… H. This H guy has been part of my journey ever since. A silent party maybe. He’s the first person I told when I got my results. I don’t even remember how it happened, but it was something like we got tested the same week, and while he got his results a day after, mine had taken a while, as you can recall. He told me his was negative, and was eager probably to share my relief when I was to find out I was negative. But that time never came. He knew I was waiting for the results, so I had to tell him. He’d figure it out somehow if I didn’t tell. So I told him my bad news.
Now, the catch is, H and I had been buddies for a couple of months before we got tested. Yes, buddies. Yes, we were a perfect match. Yes, we were doing it. And yes, at times unprotected. So he has been hanging in the balance since mid-March, waiting for the three-month window to pass before getting retested. We’d been regularly chatting during this period. I updated him on my check-ups, and he updated me on his paranoia. Some days he’d feel some things that he thought could be symptoms, other days he’d tell me he felt he was negative. I don’t know how much of this blog he’s read, but he knows about it definitely.
Finally, he was able to get tested this last Wednesday. The three month wait to get tested may have been torture for him, but I’m sure the 24-hour wait for the results was worse. I told him I’d be praying for him, and pray I did.
Finally, the day came. A Thursday again, coincidentally. Big day Thursday. He sent me a text message, saying he didn’t know how it happened… but he was negative. Negative! OMG, that’s the best news ever! And I’m sure I had a my share of a sigh of relief at that moment.
I always thought his next steps would be to head on off, go on with life, disassociate himself from me, and just be more careful in the future. But he surprised me. In the next message he sent, he told me to take him off my guilt-list and add him to the reliable-buddies-list… It was just really, really touching to hear that. Something I didn’t ask for or expect at all.
I’m truly blessed to have encountered someone like him. I knew before that we were good together physically and intellectually, but now emotionally as well. I’m sure he knows it’s him I’m talking about. And I’m sure he’ll agree, this was a very unusual, but great start to one hell of a friendship.
At least I know one person is celebrating this weekend… And so I say, STAY SAFE!!!... in every possible way… wink, wink…
Monday, May 26, 2008
Busy
I’ve been busy. Even busier than a bee.
A chat buddy of mine who I hadn’t met yet just sent me a text message last week, asking for me to get in touch with his friend. He sent his friend’s number, and I guess the timing was good. I was at the mall, with nothing else planned for the day. So I sent a message. A few more messages later, plus a short conversation over the phone, it was set, we were to meet. Let’s call him K.
Yes I admit. We had sex. One further admission, we had planned to have sex even before we met. Yes, I was a partisan to this plan. Good thing I had stocked up on condoms, right?
I don’t know what got into me, but it must have been the weeks and weeks of not having it. I just needed it. I still didn’t have a roster of poz guys to choose from, and I thought doing it safely with a stranger would be the next best thing. Honestly, I just didn’t know how to tell of my you-know-what. I didn’t have the guts. My logic told me that as long as we used protection, and this was a one time thing, it would be ok. But so much for my plan…
We got along well. Sexually compatible. Personalities matched. He was having relationship problems (yes, he had a boyfriend) and needed someone to talk to. I was a good listener and gave good advice. I liked K but had no expectations. I just enjoyed his company, and he did mine too. It was a bit of a relief that he had a boyfriend. Less of a temptation for me I thought.
But alas, we’ve been in touch since then. We exchange messages at least once a day. He’d update me about his boyfriend of course. Until that one day that K said it was over between them. At that point I was scared, dreading that he broke up with his boyfriend because of me. I knew inside I never led him on. I was never expecting. Then reality pushed paranoia aside, and K told me they a big fight and had to break up because of their irreconcilable differences. Whew.
So at this point, yes I like him as a person. He’s great company. He likes me, too. But we’re just friends, okay. We’ve even met a second time already, and seems as though this is the start of a perfect friendship. The only catch… he doesn’t know.
So now I’m stuck. Again. Another new friendship started, but still not on level ground. I’ve just dug myself deeper into the grave and added one other person to fill it in after me.
