I surprised myself for Christmas. I fell in love with a guy AND I am not ashamed of the fact. He rejected me, but I still love him. I never thought I could even have the courage to do this, so uptight a person I was.
He was a gay guy; let's call him Julius. We met during the book launching of one of my architect-friends. When we got to move close to each other, he started talking about the Grand Marian Procession in Intramuros, how colorful the procession carriages were, and how dramatic. I went with Julius on the way home. He lives in Makati, so from Manila we had to either take the jeep to Cubao or go down Taft Avenue to Buendia. I frowned at the idea of going back to Quezon City again, having come from there for the book launching. So we went down Taft Avenue to Buendia, and rode a bus to Ayala Avenue.
We talked about a lot of things. I rambled about the PNR having no train schedules after 8pm. He countered by saying that it's a practical thing for the PNR to limit their schedules, since few people ride after 8pm anyway. Then he ranted about Piolo Pascual fooling the populace by covering his homosexuality and having publicized relationships with KC Concepcion and other girls. I countered by saying that no one can really blame Piolo for doing that; people in this country are unkind to gays.
We did argue about the way heritage conservation is done in this country. I found Julius to be intelligent and nice to talk to, although I did sense his pride and his propensity to say unkind things about other people behind their backs. Of course, he looked gorgeous too, but it was the non-material things about him that mattered most to me. I was falling hard for him by the end of our commute. I did ask for his number, ostensibly to talk about his work, but more so to be able to make my move on him.
I did not really send him regular text messages until Christmastime. There I was, on the 26th, inside the Bicol Express train heading for Naga City. I decided to send him messages on the 27th, as I was deep inside Bicol. I even called him on the 29th, only to find him sick, sleeping and upset because I woke him. I did apologize for the disturbance, but continued to send him messages. Until January 2, when I was told by his friend that he "was not interested". Whether "not interested" is a euphemism for "pissed off beyond all goodwill" or anything else, I did not want to know.
So I wrote him a letter. One of these farewell-and-thank-you letters which I send to my love interests after being rejected by them, but this one was in Tagalog. I felt I had to give a record to posterity about my feelings toward him, my falling for him, my intentions, why I loved him. I did not write to get him to love me in the same way. I accepted his rejection with a lot of sadness, but the sorrow is not hollow, it feels as if a fist-sized lead ball is gyrating inside your heart, pressing on its flesh with brutality yet informing it that it is full. This sorrow is still strong in me as I write. I cried over him - the first time I cried over a gay guy - and it really felt painful. I intend to get this letter to him on Facebook soon - the last message of any sort he will receive from me.
I love him. I want him to realize that. Although I have thought that perhaps that is the reason why he rejected me eventually. I was asking for an eventual romantic relationship, the stable and exclusive kind, but of course first of all I wanted to see him more often. It turns out this was not to be. I don't know; maybe he's not ready for it, maybe I showed myself to be an annoying simpleton unworthy of being entertained, maybe I'm not just his type. I still love him nonetheless. I know that he is worthy to be loved unconditionally. I wanted to help heal his wounds and replace these with affection. And I was excited by the possibility of him loving me back in the same manner. Call me a hopeless romantic, but my love is practical and not idealistic. In fact, I show that I love him by letting him go and moving on. I continue praying for him though - as long as I feel it's needed.
It's back to being straight, but it's too early to tell if I could ever forget Julius.
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