19 May 2006
riding in cars with carla dear friend of mine, lotte the wise, told me that a real gorilla does not know that it's a gorilla.
* * *
he hitched a ride with me. i did not mind picking him up right at his doorstep. i made him ask for that.on the way home, we talked about comic books and corporations. the new smart campaign. he told me about this new restaurant and how the owner gave him a frog origami when he first dined there alone.
the lights from the billboards along guadalupe bridge were bright--perfect contrast for his small eyes.
* * *
flashback.
sophomore high school-1998-music class. in the music room, instead of having individual tables, six boys shared one round table. we were listening to "also sprack zarathustra" (a.k.a. "space oddysey 2000") when i felt something sliding up my legs. and then to my thighs. i looked around. his smile stretched from ear to ear.
* * *
when i realized it, i had not known that it was coming. we were innocent boys, a group of catholic high school boys. colemans, tupperwares, sporks and knapsacks. dumplings with garlic rice at the cafeteria, projects at his house in xavierville. text messaging came to town when we were juniors. before that, (but none of us owned) pagers.
louis and the others would page their girl friends from poveda. he paged his "girl" too.
i don't remember the exact day or how it happened. i just remember one day talking to my best friend from another class. mickey had been his friend since grade school. and i told mickey that i think i was falling for him. i told mickey to slap me.
mickey slapped me. he slapped me hard on the cheek. this did not wake me up.
* * *
this goes out to all genders: it is trouble to fall for a friend. the movie and the tv industries live off on this fact. especially when the feeling is unrequited--in tv dramas, this makes for three seasons.
was it in a movie that i heard that once you love someone, you never stop loving that person?
i don't know if this is true.
* * *
christmas break 2000. i was at missy's place. missy is my tennis friend whom he doesn't know. missy and i were in front of the telephone. i fiddled with the elaborate ceramic flower on the table. my throat felt as if it was clogged. my other hand kept on wiping tears off my cheeks.
"what did he do this time," missy asked.
* * *
my first published short story is about two friends. i started writing it in high school, abandoned it, and continued it after three years. we were eating at martha's kitchen (an old restaurant in front of school). he had a bowl of rice toppings and the manuscript in front of him.
he smiled and shrugged as he put the story down, beside his iced tea.
* * *
"five years. five years of feeling this."
he said nothing. he kept on driving, gripping the steering wheel tightly. turning it slowly from time to time.
"do you realize that it has been one fourth of my life?"
he stretched his thin arm and reached across my chest. he lockd my door. i faced the other way and proceeded to enjoy my view of katipunan avenue. we both grew up in katipunan. i grew up in katipunan avenue too. not beacause i ever lived there.
* * *
i say bad things about him. i relish doing so. there's a certain pleasure in pointing out how stupid he is and how sad his life is--i don't have to lie and that's the easy part. seeing him again, and seeing how right i was--that's the hard part.
* * *
there we were. i rested my hands on the steering wheel. edsa was cramped with cars but the traffic was moving somehow, slight nudges at a time.
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