‘I couldn’t say it to your face but I wouldn’t be around anymore’
I’m writing this because I’m drunk and well I think it’s a good story. A funny, sad story at least.
In the last couple of months after my third relationship ended, I started whoring around. The last two guys nearly drove me insane and I thought since I’m retiring from having a relationship I might as well have fun. To be honest, I was, well, I still am ready to grow old alone. So I hooked up indiscriminately, out of boredom, out of loneliness, out of anger. The craziness was so much that I now have a self-imposed ban on guys for at least a month. I have to get my shit together.
But of all the guys I hooked up with, there is this one guy that I actually liked from the moment wemet. The pre and post-coitus conversation was awkward but the sex was good. Apart from the good fuck, I liked him because I thought he was cute and was surprisingly smart. The only exchange we had prior to our hook up was about our schedule. Little did I know that hey I’m hooking up with yet another smart guy (my exes are all very smart and talented). After our first encounter I remember telling myself that I should not like him because I kind of sensed that he didn’t like me as much as I like him. When he walked out of my apartment I thought it would be the last time I would see him. But our first was followed by another and another and yet another. I think I was just too available for him that’s why he kept on texting me when he needed to. In the process though we have sort of traded bits and pieces about our lives and yes he is indeed smart and attractive and very creative and a little bit angry at the world which, I thought, was very cute. I like angry gay guys because I myself am a very angry gay guy. Also I realized that we have a few common friends/ acquaintances. Yes, it’s such a small pond. But the thing is I never text him. It was he who always texted first mainly because I knew that if I sent a message it would only be met with indifference so I didn’t bother. ‘Wag na lang. I remember the first time I realized that I really, really like him. He was talking about watching this certain show for the nude scenes and I thought: “Nyeta ang cute naman ng lalaking ito!” I was grinning absent-mindedly because I was thinking of how adorable he was when he turned to me and asked: “Why are you smiling?” Kung alam lang niya kung bakit. Although I do have to admit that I wasn’t exactly, um, sober that night. Since then though, I started looking forward to seeing him.
Whenever we see each other we always talk about, among other things, the latest episode of Looking,. I’ve been watching this HBO series from the very beginning and so does he. In fact, he’s the only one I know who watches Looking so whenever I watch an episode I automatically start thinking what I would tell him when we meet. But, and this is a big but, I don’t think we’ll be seeing each other again.
The last time we hooked up, we, um, sort of forgot to put the condom on. Afterwards, he had this worried look on his face and to make things worse I actually jokingly told him na “dapat matakot ka sa akin,” which, in some ways is actually true. To quote Cary Mulligan in Llewyn Davis:
“You should be wearing condom on condom and then wrap it in electrical tape. You should just walk around always inside a great big condom because you are shit!”
That’s exactly how I feel about myself right now (in all levels) because I’ve been having too much fun and yes I’m also a big fucking shit that everyone should avoid. That night we talked about HIV and listened to songs about AIDS. Ganda lang dib a? The way we said goodbye also told me that I wouldn’t be seeing him anytime soon. Apparently, I’ve become too indecent for him, which of course gave me an idea for a story about a guy who meets the love of his life only to be rejected because he has not exactly been a saint. Not that I’m implying that he is the love of my life.
This morning though I dreamed about him. I was in a bar and I saw him with a friend and when I was about to say hi he glared at me and motioned me out. Later, I would see him making out with someone and the jealousy I felt was enough to remind me of the puke-inducing pain that I had experienced in the past. Needless to say, I woke up in a filthy mood.
Tonight I saw Looking’s season ender> I thought it was pretty good. I hated the episode prior to this one because I thought Andrew Haighs has crafted characters that are so deeply fucked up they are in effect unsympathetic. The last episode of the season however showed people who are just deeply flawed. The creators have gotten their shit together. Apparently, we’re not to sympathize with them as we did with Carrie Bradshaw or Lena Durnham. We just have to watch them live their imperfect lives with their imperfect decisions. Watching the episode was painful, cathartic, and well fun. I so love the episode that I was tempted to text the guy and tell him how much I love the season ender but then we’re not exactly friends. We’re just fuck buddies. And if I were to look back to our last moments, particularly that moment when he told me to leave him in the street while he hailed a cab alone, I’d say that our season has also ended.
PS. I love the songs featured on Looking and funny how this one made the biggest impression me even before I got to listen to the lyrics. How apropros no?