Writing a journal is like psychotherapy and maybe my way of coping up. I don't write anything in particular. My topics are usually about annoying things about capitalism, my own theories of the world, emotions, being a woman and my most favorite topic: HIM.
Recap or not, I still want to write this in an attempt to transcend my emotions with words full of descriptions, affection, fondness and cherished memories.
I met this man the very first time 10/10/09...and he was wearing a yellow shirt and this was the same shirt I thought he would be wearing when I saw one his photos in his site wearing that same shirt! ( So much about the shirt, next topic please).
Well, the real action begins fifteen minutes after we met in the airport when we took our cab on the way to the condominium which will become the silent witness of our affections in the next three weeks of our lives. The lyrical streak, the prose, the semi-fiction journals and yearnings I have written in the past, the denials and lame attempt to mask his identity in my writings but actually, he is the reason why I was writing those...the melancholic and almost obsessive mawkishness just trying to tickle his almost unmoved aura...aaahhh...those moments of uncertainty if the planned meet will really happen.
And the kiss.
He was really here! Of *coursh, the strange familiarity like the first ray of sun crawling in our senses that was indescribable.
The first week of his stay was a bit chaotic not because of our cultural difference but because of my despotic schedule in the University. We both stayed late at night helping me finish my stuff and we both have to endure the annoying sound of masking tape and icky sticky glue when we have to paste some cut outs. But of *coursh, my most favorite and probably him, was the union of flesh in between those tedious tasks I remember the sweetest.
We went to the Manila Cathedral, Intramuros, Manila Ocean Park and dine in some fancy and posh restaurants in the metropolis in between free schedule while completing my academic requirements. I even had him ridden the metro train and walked past the sidewalks in EDSA. He was almost like wanting to get an oxygen tank because of the noxious emission of buses and cars conquering the main roads of Manila.
This is Manila my dear, I told him. He was seeing both sides now and maybe even pondering in between being a tourist and figuring out what it is like to live in this place on a daily basis.ust for a thought.. but I know, he was thinking of these without any prejudice.
Real trip, real vacation started 18th of October in Caramoan. A really tedious travel by air, land and sea! But worth it. There we experienced a total sound of silence. Imagine, just the sound of the waves, the wind and our heartbeats. We were awed by its beautiful landscape and unspoiled surroundings that seemed to be a twilight zone not wanting to go back where you really live.
Next stop: Bohol. Gosh! We were ten minutes late to check in our less than ten kilos baggage and we were not allowed to get in even with puppy-eyed faces and kilometric sweet english lyrical streak. Cebu Pacific is really strict ( or greedy?) when it comes to penalty and surcharges when you fail to get before checking time! So, it was like paying double for the airfare and we were thinking of canceling the trip. But after "googling" of what Bohol has to offer-- the tarsier, the Chocolate Hills and the beaches were really irresistible. So we rebooked our flight. Just two days of stay but we actually enjoyed it specially the tarsier videos he took :)
last stop: Boracay. We still haven't found any hotel to stay before we can actually get there. I told my self: it is not peak season. we will definitely find a good one and we actually did! Thanks for the help of the trike driver who took and helped us get a good hotel. The whole trip from Caramoan up to our final stop went pretty well. The weather was good, the people we met along were nice ( except for most drivers who would price us big for a transportation contract..those bastards! grrr....good thing my Shogun doesn't look like a foreigner at all not when he start to speak, the twang is really there, hahaha!). We never had any negative bouts or paranoia of being trapped because of the weather. Never it happened. All went smoothly.
The actual journey as I call it was when we were talking about spirituality, our own viewpoints of the world and how we perceived things when they happen, happening and is going to happen. We had these discussions in our bedroom, in Starbucks, in the couch, in the restaurants, in the waters when we took a dip, when we sat to have a Coke..everywhere... just like whenever we feel like it to kiss, hihihihi.
10/29/09: thanking the heaven and our angels for making us meet. The actual journey has just started when I acknowledged something metaphysical, of their presence, their role in my life. The water he whisked and poured upon me... the very feeling, the emotions, the tears... those made him more loved, more adored and respected by this lost soul. There were still so many things I want to jot down but only the walls and room 1900 bear witness to that subliminal joys and passions we shared. Most are kept in our memories and heart.
People search their whole lives for one moment of what we shared together. Once in a while, right in the middle of our ordinary life, love gives us a fairytale. Shared love gives us the strength, need and desire to conquer obstacles that would otherwise prevent us from being together in the future.
I sent him this sms before: Why does everything have to be so hard sometimes? maybe because if it was that easy, we'd never know if anything was worth it.
But I know in my heart, the journey with you is worth more than any treasures in the world, my dearest.
*of coursh is actually the phrase of course. I just used to tease him coz being dutch, he pronounced it this way.
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