post-tumble squirt

Its a Saturday afternoon. Having woke up hours before a scheduled meet-up with bloggogatchi girl, i decided to write something to pass the time. i don’t normally sleep in the afternoons, but today, i did. Its a special day, considering that its seldom that i find myself in the metro during weekends. Beside me eyvicat is still sleeping. We were both exhausted, what with the passionate early morning tumble in bed we had, just hours ago; more so with him, as he came here straight from a graveyard shift. so i’ll just let him be for some couple more hours.

Who would have thought that there will be an end to that spiralling madness of casual meet-ups and one nightstands, three years ago? Who would have thought i’d meet someone who would want to embark on a journey with me? someone who saw me not only in my best but also in my worst, and is still with me all these time? caring for me, loving me. Three years, six months and twenty-one days to this day. I couldn’t ask for anything more.

We met at downelink.com. unlike other guys who posted pictures of sculpted torsos or face pictures taken at the best times, i first saw eyvicat with that ‘bagong gising’ look. Hehehe. i dunno, but i immediately took a liking of that picture and decided to send him a message commenting on his shoutout, something about [im]patiently waiting. He answered, saying that he is both patiently and impatiently waiting for the right person; and that became the start of a lengthy exchange, through YM, before finally deciding to meet up.

It was a Monday evening. Straight from work and wearing a long-sleeved barong tagalong, i met him at glorietta. He was wearing an old-rose colored muscle shirt; and though the awkwardness of our attires put side by side made us uncomfortable, it didn’t take long to find ourselves laughing and beaming with relief that the other guy confirmed exactly the image one had formed in his mind in the course of the YM chat. We had dinner at icebergs, and that was the start of something beautiful.

I remember writing something for the “who you’d want to meet” part of my Friendster profile, some years back, before meeting eyvicat. Something about waking up in the mornings with kisses on my back. He sure must have remembered it well, as he kissed my back this morning—tracing a lovely pattern—as a post-tumble gesture of tenderness. At any moment now, he is sure to wake up sporting again that look i fell for, three years ago.—that bagong gising look only my dee could execute in perfect unison with my beating heart. hehehe. Ah, it just keeps getting better.

cough, cough.

This cough is getting out of hand. It started like a dry cough, then i noticed it did have phlegm companion whenever i forcibly cough. Must be the cold weather. Then again, it could have been triggered by a recent spa visit, where i did enjoy getting in and out of the dry sauna and the steam room; the Jacuzzi and the cold pool. Sudden temperature changes do wonders to the human body. Then again it could be the sweat drying on my back. Mom was ever vigilant reminding me of always keeping my back dry and changing shirt whenever i sweat in profusion. But then again she’s nowhere to remind me now, as i chose to spend my weekend here, alone in the metro. Well not really alone as i have eyvicat to keep me company, as i said, for one or two nights. But otherwise i’m left to my lonesome self here in a small studio type unit i’m renting, just a five minute walk to one of the mrt stations along EDSA. This morning i forced a cough. There were traces of blood in the phlegm i managed to expel.

Eyvicat suggested that i buy a phlegm expectorant from a drug store and see what happens. It might be that i ‘m exerting pressure way too much that my throat muscles tear.

Had this happened at home, sis would surely see this as an opportune time again to tell me that this is a sign to change ‘my ways’. In the time leading to and after i have unceremoniously outed myself to my sister, there was a slew of events that happened to me; one that required me to undergo a medical procedure, and the other one, involving an ugly sick pig in the company shuttlebus; all these, she points, injecting her spirituality, could be stemming from my taking an alternative lifestyle. In our heart to heart late night conversations she would always cry.

Being the cry baby that i am, it surprised me that at these events there were minimum amount of tears shed. It could be that the ducts dried a long time ago. Once upon a time there was a boy who prayed hard to god to spare him of the unnatural feelings he was having. Prayed so hard because he knew, growing up in a devout catholic extended family, attending a catholic school, and leading a nightly community block rosary recitation—with his sister and other relatives in attendance—that whatever he was feeling, if remained unchecked could lead him to the eternal fires of.. wherever. tears flowed. tears dried up.

People change i guess. Somewhere along the way, years and years passed, the boy and his sister are at the two sides of a coin, the love for each other unchanging but each one trying to win the other to his side of the argument.

There, there. Now, to buy that cough syrup.

beloved

Seems like this whole blog is taking too long on introductions. Explosive first entry... check. Blog title introduction... check. Main character pie... check. Whew, quite a lengthy checklist, huh? When all i wanted was to shield my sister from reading my travails.

You see, i just outed myself to her just a few months back. It wasn't an intentional outing. There have been events prior to that which sort of led to me doing the whole song and dance number in front of her. something which might need a whole different entry just to cover the feel of one dramatic scene unfolding after another. Sigh. Suffice it to say that she sortof initiated me into this whole blogging thing (not that i haven't blogged before--as i've said, i was quite the prolific blogger even before assuming my gentle persona that some of you guys have already met; maintaining blogs that died their natural deaths, as such cases could be attributed to lack of cohesive subjects to anchor my ponderings on) for me to have something to busy myself with, other than my partner of more than three years.

it was her theory that i have to get busy so i'll forget him in time and maybe, just maybe, find a girl to marry like all good boys should. I do love my sister but when it comes to affairs of the heart i know my heart more than anyone could claim to know it ; so its taking me a tremendous amount of time management, shuttling from the metro to the province and to the metro again in the course of a week's progression to balance my family duties and of course to be with eyvicat even for just one or two nights. Of course, such activities have to have proper documentation so my blog(s) do not get left out of the scene, haha! :)

as my sister happens to be one of my first followers/ blog subscribers, i had to device something other than blocking her out entirely. I mean i do not want to be talking of my weekday activities with eyvicat knowing she would read it. Yet it pains me not to talk of such things knowing that my moments with eyvicat are a tremendous part of who i am.

It is in this manner that you get introduced to my beloved sister and eyvicat the beloved.