Letter no.3: Half Past Six
How long can you stand for love? How long can you hold on to it? Beware.., for the once you knew love can fade in just a snap. Find out in this letter how two strangers became victim of love lost and found.
When I was a teenage boy, I thought that finding the right love is the most difficult part of growing until I realized it’s not, it’s rather escaping out of love. There’s even a question mark if real love ever existed.Take it from the common passage: “There’s nothing permanent in this world, only change”, and so isn’t love. I wrote this letter to you Michael cause I’ve been hunting for aswers. I would like to believe that love isn’t just a phase that ends eventually, just like how I felt that one summer of May.
You know that Pierre was my world. He was my everything. The moment I met him one hot Monday of December, I felt the spark. It was 8am at Cubao terminal. I was about to ride a provincial bus to my hometown, Batangas. I wasn’t in the mood due to stress. I chose the two-seat side of the bus. The moment I sat down and felt the soft pad, I closed my eyes. And all my thoughts vanished just switly. I was interrupted by the sudden gust of wind, I realized the bus was running. I happened to glance beside me and there was this man sleeping, kinky hair and thick eyelashes caught my attention. He has the steepiest nose I’ve so far seen. His lips was inviting, it promised the sweetest kiss. And yes, I was hypnotized. Little by little my lips reached his mine, yes.., no… I am just kidding. How I just wish Michael. I couldn’t do it in public with a stranger. I didn’t have the guts, I just won’t do it.
Half past an hour, his sleep was disturbed. He dropped his earphones and sealed it in his pocket. His eyes met mine…and I totally forgot the rest of the story of our first meeting. I swear. Michael, it was like heaven. The feeling was light. On our first sight, we knew that there’s something we got to see ahead. And we felt it as time aged. They call it love.
I wasn’t a believer of love until Pierre happened.
February is said to be the glorious month of the year as it is when love blooms here and there.
We started seeing, having dinner out at times, discovering more about each other. We began to know more of our backgrounds, the ups and downs of it. We began unraveling blind secrets…, and some deepest part of it. We were so compatible. He’s a man of dignity and responsibility. He’s married. You hear it right Michael. But he’s not happy. He just felt that something was lacking until I happened. I accepted the fact. He made my daily routine complete and so did I to him.
But like all great beginnings, there are sad parts. There was one week of that month when we barely see each other. Time was a factor. He was busy and I was too. I am gay Michael, just one sweet attention of a normal guy for me would be missed. Valentines day passed, nothing happened. He just sent me a message that he was with his family.
It was the 22nd of that month, I almost forgot, it was my birthday. We met again. The feeling was like the first time we knew each other at Cubao terminal. We shared stories and talked a lot, ate pasta at Pancake House, that’s my favorite. Time passed swiftly. We found each other laughing badly at corny jokes, you know, the unusual things friends would do. We strolled the park around the corners of Greenbelt, we stopped at the garden of church, where he asked the magic question: “Will you love me back?”
Tears rolled down my face unknowingly. The feeling was mutual. That was the most momentous feeling I’ve ever had.
It was just perfect. Once in a lifetime story God has written.
Happy birthday to me.
One time, he asked me a random question, “Coco, do you think loving someone is a choice or a destiny?” I couldn’t get the answer honestly. That time, I was a believer of love already. I finally answered back after awhile. “Pierre, I think it’s destiny that led us to friendship and choice why we elevated into a relationship.” At the back of my mind, I was worried about us. Why would he suddenly ask that question. He just smiled. It somehow eased my worries. I loved how he smiles.
But I couldn’t help but be paranoid from there on.
We booked a trip to Beijing.
I remember we were walking on the Great Wall, enjoying the green promise of nature when he told me a story about a love triangle, you know the typical. Boy loves the girl but the girl loves another boy. I could somehow relate it to our story except that ours ran in circles and a little bit more complicated; boy loves a girl and that same boy loves another boy. How on earth could that possibly happen.
We went to this Fortune house just for fun. Well, I wasn’t a fan of fortune telling anyway. I hadn’t been. The teller on his sixties almost knew everything we had been through. There was one statement of hers that awakened my heart. Everything in this world is a phase. Everything ends, and so does love. She asked me of what awaits in our relationship ahead. I couldn’t answer back. I didn’t know what happened next cause I quickly got out of the tent. I analyzed her question while walking away. What really awaits us.
On our way back home, my mind was full of thoughts. I was thinking that sometime, somehow, he would need to choose. We would grow, age, eventually would die. He got family and I’ve got none. I was still thinking of the love triangle story he told me. He’s at the middle. In any other way, he got my back or his wife’s. It was just so unfair that I got one direction and he got two roads to choose from. He could either have me or his wife for a lifetime. At some point in this life, it would be like a crossroad, you can never drive in two ways to finally get home. The plane landed but my mind was left there high.
May 22nd to be exact, we were 3 months together. Not bad. We went to our favorite place somewhere in Tagaytay for a celebration.
I woke up that breezy morning of May. It was summer.We were in the attic, in bed where we made love the night before. He was still sleeping the moment I opened my eyes, I was holding his right hand, his lips were buried in my forehead, and we were embracing tightly. We were inlove, yes, so inlove, not until I woke up that morning. It’s half past six and I felt I just didn’t love him anymore.
I just felt that I couldn’t take it anymore. I realized that I was backstabbing his wife. I was the evil. But at the same time, I knew that his happiness was not exactly my fault. It was just so hard to explain that while you are committing a biblical sin, you are preventing your own happiness. It’s weird and I hope Michael that God understands it.
We left Tagaytay after two days and just like the cold wind of the fields, our hearts got cold too.
We broke up because of uncertainty.
I just couldn’t imagine now that something not so clear would break our relationship. I realized that thinking of what awaits ahead is like putting an end to any relationship. Everything changes, yes. Everything runs in phase, just like love. We travel and drive our own journey not just to reach home but also to enjoy the scenery, to fear some rugged lanes, to choose which way is smoother, to try possibilities when losing way, to regret of what could have taken, to meet other travelers on the way and on their way back and to learn from them.
But it’s too late.
I finally got the point. Giving Pierre up is probably the saddest part of my life. Love is a phase as I always think of it. I haven’t thought that there are phases that last long indeed.
If you would judge me Michael, had I really loved Pierre given all this thoughts while we were together? Do you think it really matters to care of what awaits ahead as we were both males biologically? Since when did it become part of love? What is love in the first place? How can you ever quantify a quality?
I will wait for your answers.
“I think it’s destiny that led us to friendship and choice why we elevated into a relationship.”
QUESTION MARK FOR YOU TO BREAK:
“Did love ever exist? How can you quantify a quality?”
If you got the message and are Michael enough to break the question mark, then share your thoughts of the above letter and be featured as the next response letter. Just send your letters to firstname.lastname@example.org and be yourself read by others who have probably got the same thoughts.
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Song titled: “Terminal” by Rupert Holmes
Picture lifted from: http://www.fromthefrontrow.net/2010/03/gaycom-presents-film-series-this-friday.html