The Art of Letting Go

It was the middle of the week and the only excitement I was expecting was the exhilarating train ride at the MRT. At rush hour, when everyone fights with each other to reach home in time for dinner, expect jostling, pushing and elbowing, along with the off-chance that the train cars are always too full to get into. Though I was pushed and jostled, I managed to get on the first train that came, so this small triumph felt like a real accomplishment. On my walk home I bought takeout for dinner, and I was looking forward to playing catch up on the rest of the first season of Dexter. I don't know what it was about this show, but it's like every time I watched this show, the universe played a joke on me. After dinner, just as soon as I began to play episode seven, I heard my doorbell ring. And who was it at the door? Yep, you guessed it right, it was Alex.

*

“Are you still at work?” I texted Adam.

“Ye. What's up?” Adam replied.

“Alex just left. Something happened,” I texted back.

“I'll be there in 30 minutes,” Adam replied.

*

I had the red wine ready when Adam arrived. I started ahead of him. 

“I think we need something stronger than that,” Adam said.

“I can't. I have an early morning meeting tomorrow,” I said.

“Fine. But we might need another bottle. So tell me,” Adam said as he poured himself wine. 

“I don't know. The sex just sort of happened. Does he want me back?” I asked.

“What did he say?” Adam asked.

“He didn't say anything,” I said.

“He had to say something. Did he just come in, fuck you, get dressed and leave?” Adam asked. 

“Before he left he said he had to get going. And while we were having sex he said he missed this,” I said.

“And not he missed you,” Adam said. 

“I honestly don't know what to think,” I said.

“It happens all the time. Post-breakup sex. I hate to say this but it didn't mean anything. What it probably meant was that he was horny and it was more convenient for him to come over rather than make an effort to look for someone else,” Adam said.

“Have you ever did it to anyone?” I asked.

No need for an answer as I watched his face turn reticent. 

“What the hell is wrong with you guys?” I asked. 

“I'm not proud of it. And if it's any consolation, I really try hard not to. But sometimes the opportunity is just there and lust clouds my judgment,” Adam said. 

“Before I closed the door he said thanks,” I said. 

“Puta siya,” Adam said. 

“And the worst part is, umasa ako. As soon as I opened the door for him and he started kissing me right then and there, I immediately hoped that this was it, that this was the reconciliation I've been waiting for. In the first place, I've never agreed to the breakup. But he didn't give me any choice. He said it was over, told me he didn't see me in his future, and the next day, he left with most of his things. Was he expecting me to beg him to change his mind? It didn't seem like it. And I know him. No amount of begging can make him change his mind. But then again, if I knew him so well, shouldn't have I foreseen the breakup?” I asked.

“I'm not even going to tell you such cliches as you'll get through this and that there are other fish in the sea and that you're better off without him and all that bullshit. I know you love him, and you do still, and if you really want to get over him, don't ever open the door for him, don't reply to his texts, don't answer his calls, just cut him out of your life altogether. If he texts or calls or knocks on that door, call me and I'll talk you out of it,” Adam said.

“But I don't want to get over him. Not yet. What if he changed his mind?” I asked.

“How long will you wait?” Adam asked.

“As long as it takes?” I asked.

“You know as well as I do that it's a bad idea. But you don't have to listen to me. Not like I've made any sound decisions lately,” Adam said.

“Why does love make us so stupid?” I asked.

*

I've discovered that when we have a relationship problem, it's not true that we don't know what to do, because most of the time, we really do. That's what makes it easy to give relationship advice to our friends: we know what to do, and if they follow our advice then their problem is solved. But that's what makes it hard to follow our own advice. Knowing is different from doing, and our own feelings will always get in the way of doing what we think is right. Our judgment can be clouded by lust, or infatuation, or hurt, or anger, or disappointment, or insecurity. But the thickest cloud that obscures our judgment is love. Why is it that as soon as we fall in love, or as soon as we think it's love we're feeling, reason disappears like a puff of smoke? Is it because we just can't reason against love because it's unreasonable, we can't rationalize it because it's irrational, and we can't argue against it because it's inarguable?  

81 days since Alex broke up with me, 54 days since he picked up the rest of his things, 47 days since we were supposed to celebrate our fifth anniversary, and all it took for me to fall apart again was an hour of making love to him that Adam later had to point out was not even making love but was only meaningless sex.  And even then, that didn't stop me from still holding on, believing that our almost five years together meant something, and that it wasn't easy to throw away, and that eventually Alex will realize he was an idiot for letting me go and will want to get back together with me. All this time, despite the stimulating dates with Nico, despite the rousing sex with Lyndon, I was only pretending to myself that I have been moving on and they were both helping me do so, but all I was really doing was holding on. 

Honesty

Another Saturday and it's a week before the next payday, so I asked the girls if we could skip our usual expensive lunch out and all pitch in for a home-cooked meal instead. Having never done it before they were thrilled with the suggestion, and we met at Starbucks 6750 at ten in the morning to plan our meal as some of us had a late breakfast. Afterwards, we walked to Rustan's Supermarket to buy what we needed, and because the aisles weren't conducive to long stretches of conversation among four grown men, not a long while later, with our three bags of groceries and a box of chocolate cake, we were on a cab to my apartment to start cooking and to start talking.

“I don't know what you were expecting but it was bound to happen eventually,” Dan said.

“And I don't think it was sustainable to begin with,” I added.

“But they were very much in love,” Uno said.

“Was he in love? For all I know he is only in it for the sex,” Adam said.

“You don't believe that,” Uno said.

“It doesn't matter whether he believes it or not. It's over,” I said.

“I bet he hadn't even tried to reach you yet,” Dan said.

“He actually did. He asked if we could lay low for a while,” Adam said.

“See I told you. He loves you,” Uno said.

“And you said?” Dan asked.

We all looked at Adam and saw the answer on his face.

“You have to believe you deserve better dear, or else you'd always end up in the same situation. You're not hoping he's going to leave his wife for you, are you?” Dan asked.

“No, no of course not. It's more complicated than that. And even if he wants to, I can't let him do that. He has his kids to think about too,” Adam said.

“So then you might as well leave him now if you're being so selfless about it,” Dan said.

“Look at him. He can't say it but it's obvious. He can't leave him because he loves him,” I said.

“It's not the most ideal setup,” Adam said.

“That's an understatement,” Dan said.

“...but he's the only one I met who made me the happiest. And you all know I've tried it with so many other guys,” Adam said.

“So you're going to bear it?” I asked.

“He has to if he loves him,” Uno said.

“It's emotional suicide,” Dan said.

“I'm going to put up with it for as long as I can. If it hurts too much already and when the pain's not worth the happiness anymore, I'll go,” Adam said.

“So I take it the wife didn't leave him,” I said.

“I guessed not. But we didn't talk about it,” Adam said.

“Did he apologize at least?” Dan asked.

“I told him it wasn't his fault. And from the start I knew what I was getting myself into,” Adam said.

“But at least he did. That shows he's concerned about you,” Uno said.

“Dapat lang,” Dan said.

“Don't worry okay. I'm a big girl. I can handle myself. And besides, I know you'd all come to help me when I need you to,” Adam said.

“I should have dissuaded you from making this decision in the first place,” Dan said.

“As if we can ever dissuade him. His skull is as hard as his biceps,” I said.

“Well you're the one to judge. What's this I hear that you're dating two guys at once, and that they're friends, and one of them doesn't know that you're dating the other,” Adam said.

“You're not,” Dan said.

I looked at Uno menacingly.

“Don't look at him like that. We aren't supposed to be keeping secrets from each other, remember?” Adam asked.

“Fine. Yes, I am. Happy?” I asked.

“I thought you were smarter than this,” Dan said.

“He just can't find the right timing to let Nico know,” Uno said.

“There's no right timing for that,” Dan said.

“What is it with you girl? You're being very bitchy today,” Adam said.

“Look, we're all not getting any younger...” Dan said.

“Speak for yourself,” Adam said.

“Who's being bitchy now?” I asked.

“...we all should know better by now. If this is Uno making these mistakes I would have understood. But you Earl of all people?” Dan said.

“That doesn't exactly sound like a compliment,” Uno said.

“My point is, he should be better than this,” Dan said.

“I'm not exactly an expert in these things you know. So far I've only had one boyfriend. And look where that got me. If there's an expert among us that would be Adam,” I said.

“Maybe he's my karma?” Adam asked.

“If there was such a thing then all the people who have done bad things should have been dead by now,” Dan said.

“Their retribution awaits them in hell,” Uno said.

“I'd rather see them punished here on earth,” Dan said.

“Are you saying makakarma ako if I keep doing this?” I asked.

“I'm just saying you'd better tell Nico soon,” Adam said.

“Wait. You're all being too hard on me, and not with Adam,” I said.

“Because he's hopeless. He has no conscience. You, on the other hand, we can still save,” Dan said.

“So now you're being too harsh on me,” Adam said.

“He's actually being too harsh on everyone. So spill it already,” I said.

“Mike's mom is asking him to move back to Davao,” Dan said.

“I knew something was up,” Uno said.

“And what did Mike say?” I asked.

“He hadn't said anything. He just told me what his mom had asked him,” Dan said.

“I hope he's not seriously considering it,” I said.

“I think you both know what the solution is,” Adam said.

“But it has to be his decision. I can't force him to do it,” Dan said.

“And he would know his mom best. If he decides to tell her, he'll probably know how she'd react,” Uno said.

“But how about his job?” I asked.

“His mom said his uncle can get him to work for the government,” Dan said.

“Would he take that?” Adam asked.

“I don't know. We haven't exactly discussed it at length. We've both been trying to avoid the conversation,” Dan said.

“It seems you're the only one who doesn't have any problems,” I said to Uno.

“Are you kidding? I want to have sex so badly. And I really miss Aris,” Uno said.

“Why don't you just meet him secretly?” Adam asked.

“Don't be such a bad influence. At least one of us is doing the right thing,” Dan said.

*

After they had all left and while I was cleaning the apartment, I couldn't help but worry that I really made a bad decision to hide the truth from Nico even if it was hard to tell him that I was seeing his friend Lyndon too. Why is it that honesty is not as easy as some people make it out to be? In the real world, nothing is really black or white, and between these two opposing colors are an infinitesimal number of grays that all have their own repercussions. Real life decisions have real life consequences, and whether a decision was made selfishly as in Adam's boyfriend's case, or is made with a selfless excuse as in Dan's boyfriend's case, they were the ones who had to live with their decisions, and like Adam and Dan, the people around them all become collateral damage because of it. Not everyone had the steely resolve of Uno, who despite his complaints and despite being the youngest among all of us, was probably the bravest amongst us. I can only hope that one of these days I would muster the bravery myself, because if I kept putting it off the mistake just becomes more severe, and a shot of honesty may then be too late.

No Other Woman

The main pitfall of having a friend in a happy, contented and very long term relationship was that he was already settled at home tending to his garden while his husband was busy at the kitchen or was otherwise working on his computer. He had no incentive to endure the traffic from Antipolo to Manila and battle through the MRT crowd to get to Greenbelt where our circle of friends always ended up meeting. I couldn't fault Dan for it, not really, not when I used to be the same way when Alex and I were still a couple. But we had him promise to meet us at least once a month, and we always, always held him to that promise, just as they held me to the same promise when I was still in a relationship. Sadly, this particular Saturday wasn't one of those promised days, especially because Adam was also indisposed and was at the moment playing mistress for that married man he never could seem to leave. With Nico and Lyndon both still asleep and were both working later in the evening, it was just Uno and myself as usual,  and we decided to finally visit the Ayala Museum that before then we only always passed by or saw from afar as we traversed the expensive walkways of Greenbelt.

Although it seemed callous of me to tell Uno about my dating woes given that he couldn't go on dates himself until he graduated from college, I was only too happy to find out that he was eager to hear all about them as if he was vicariously living through my stories. More than two years ago, when we first learned that he heeded his parents' order to end his relationship with Aris and to cut all ties with him, we were sorely disappointed and we thought that his parents were being very unfair. We rooted for them, and we really thought that they were good together despite their seven-year age difference. But as his mother had said to him, if they were really meant for each other then their love could wait, and my only wish for Uno was that Aris was waiting for him as we speak. As we went through all the floors of the museum, I felt relieved to have him listen to my concerns over dating two guys at the same time. He laughed and made fun of my near misses of keeping Nico in the dark about Lyndon, and expressed concern that it may not be the best decision to keep doing so. He was thrilled to hear my stories of Lyndon's naughtiness and advised that whatever happened, whether I picked Nico or Lyndon eventually, I should just enjoy my time with the both of them until I needed to make my choice.

We were sitting al fresco at the Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf, Uno eating his two scoops of Haagen-Dazs ice cream on a wafer cone while I sipped my Iced chai, when both our phones notified us that we have a text. It was Adam asking us to come quickly to Traders Hotel because he was having a crisis. We asked him what was wrong but he didn't respond, and our calls to him were left unanswered, so as we rode the cab from Makati to Roxas Boulevard, Uno and I had all sorts of speculations about what might have happened. Adam can be such a drama queen at times, so Uno's guess was that they had a fight and Fred had walked out on him. My guess was a fight too, but that they had come to blows before the guy left. I joked though that how cruel, and funny, and cliché it would it be if the guy had a heart attack while they were having sex and he had suddenly gone limp on top of Adam and he didn't know what to do. Arriving at the hotel, going up the elevator and knocking on the door to Adam's hotel room, we were about to find out.

“Are you alright?” we asked as he ushered us into the room. It didn't seem to be in more disarray than how it should be but Fred was nowhere to be found. Adam though looked very distraught, his eyes puffy and red from crying.

“The wife had found us out,” Adam said as we all sat down at the edge of the bed.

“How?” Uno said.

“I don't know. But it was so humiliating. We were both in boxers waiting for the room service, when there was a knock on the door and Fred opened it without first looking to see who it was, and in she comes with all sorts of invectives flying in the air before she even saw me. When she did, she just lost it. She wasn't expecting me to be a man. Fred was blocking her from getting to me and she scratched his face and slapped him and was shouting at him that he was never going to see their children ever again. He was able to push her out of the door and then he dressed up while I helped him pack his things and we didn't even say anything to each other. All we could hear was his wife banging on the door and making a commotion. He must have dragged his wife out of the hotel begging her not to make a scene. Fuck. I feel so stupid. I should never have agreed to this,” Adam said.

“It's okay, it's not your fault,” I said.

“But it is. I thought we could get away with it. That was our mistake,” Adam said.

“Don't be too hard on yourself. You did it for love,” Uno said.

“It's so fucking unfair. He doesn't even love her. But at the end of the day, he's going to choose her over me,” Adam said.

*

That night, after Uno had gone home, I kept Adam company. Because it was a Saturday night he was insisting we go to Malate, but I convinced him that we just stay in the hotel room. After dinner we went out to buy a bottle of Absolut vodka, some orange juice, and chips, and I helped him drown his sorrows in liquor. The 750 ml bottle was more than enough for the two of us, and by the end of the night he was passed out on the bed while I channel surfed until my buzz dissipated. Once in a while I would glance at Adam to see how he was, and I can't help but think how helpless he seemed despite that huge muscular frame of his. There was a lesson in all of this somewhere, about strength and helplessness, about secrets and lies, about love and sorrow, about choices and consequences, but there was a right time to be asking these questions, and at this moment all Adam needed was company to his sorrow and nothing else and what are friends for if not to give him exactly that?

Dazed and Confused

Not only was I dating someone smart, witty, funny and articulate, but I was also dating someone hot, sexy, great in bed, and beautiful to look at. The only problem was, they weren't one person but two, and therein lies the rub.

My dates with Nico were always intellectually stimulating. The ease by which our conversations fell from one topic to the next assured us no dull moment. As we walked around  Greenbelt to window shop and went from the National Bookstore in Greenbelt 1 to the Powerbooks in Greenbelt 3 just to browse for books, we never ran out of things to talk about. My worry was to find myself liking him more and more only to discover later on that we weren't compatible in bed, which would be a total let down given how much time (and probably feelings) we've already invested by then. That could easily be solved if we went ahead and have sex already, but he was such a sweet and gentle guy, and I couldn't find one perfect time where I could suggest we do so. The most we've done thus far was held hands and a quick peck on the lips inside the movie theater. I would have readily given in to more, but he didn't seem to be in any rush so I didn't press it. I never knew until then that dating such a gentleman was so sexually frustrating.

My time with Lyndon, on the other hand, was in a different category altogether. At this point, not a corner of my apartment had been spared from all the sex we were doing. He was sexually adventurous, and though we often started in the bedroom, we always ended up somewhere else: me on the kitchen table, or leaning on the kitchen sink, or pressed against the bathroom wall, or by the window as unsuspecting vehicles down below drove along the street. Riding a full bus back to my apartment or finding ourselves inside an empty elevator up to my floor, he would naughtily tease me by pressing his hardness against me and would pinch and knead my behind to get me worked up, all while whispering in my ear what he would do to me as soon as we reached my place. Until him, I didn't even know I was receptive to such exhibitionism, but he was bringing out parts of myself I never even knew existed and it was both scary and exhilirating at the same time. Though the sex was great, I couldn't help but worry. What would happen to us when the sex had staled? He wasn't as great a conversationalist as Nico, and when the euphoria and novelty of sex had worn off, what else was there for us to do?

And just as I thought, dating two guys at the same time was very confusing. I couldn't remember which of them went to Mapua and who went to UST. I couldn't remember who has the sister who lives in the UK and who has the brother who is a priest. I couldn't remember which detail about myself I had said to whom, and I always end up telling a story I've already told thinking I haven't told it yet to whoever was listening. What's more confusing was that they were both call center agents, and the details of their stories jumbled in my head and I often mixed up who did customer service and who did selling. I even mixed up the names of their co-agents and what their team lead's names were. I had to wait and listen carefully to what they said so I could gleam context clues that would reveal to me who did what, who was friends with who, and who went to where so I won't make mistakes with my responses. Of course I had to be more careful with Nico than with Lyndon, and sometimes Lyndon would laugh at me and tell me, “that's Nico and not me” and I would blush in complete embarrassment.

And don't even get me started about scheduling. Why was it that my phone may be silent all day with no one texting but as soon as one of them texted, the other one did too? And why was it that empty days would roll along without either of them asking me out but just as soon as one of them did, the other one did too? It's almost as if they were talking to each other behind my back and conniving to confuse me. Whenever this happened, I tried to balance out between my sexual needs and my intellectual stimulations, and depending on which one I needed more at the moment determined who I was going to say yes to. If only I could get both from the same man then I would have gladly committed to whoever that was. Was that asking for too much? Did I, like most gays like me, want the world?

But for all my confusion and for all the problems dating two guys were causing me, I admit that I was having too much fun to stop and pick one of them. And the way I saw it, neither of them was in any rush for me to make a decision, so maybe for now all I could do was to hang on tight and enjoy the ride. What could possibly go wrong?

Out with the Old, In with the New

And just like that, the year that was had vanished into thin air. The last remnants of the false Christmas cheer was slowly starting to disappear as the days went on. But if that season had been torture for its insistent reminder that I was newly single, then the next festivity was sure to twist the knife already buried in my heart. I am talking, of course, of Valentine's Day. It's six weeks from now I know, but with the slow pace dating Nico had taken, I was certain that I was still going to be single by then. But there was hope for me yet. Enter Lyndon, Nico's friend.

Two days before the New Year, Nico brought me to the year-end party of his Guys4Men group. The gesture was sweet, implying that he was proud to be dating me and was not embarrassed to introduce me to his friends. Definitely a good sign. When we arrived at the resort I was happy to discover that their group was inclusive, not like the ones that did screenings to weed out those that weren't “straight-acting” and “discreet”. Nico's group represented the full spectrum of gayness, from graciously aging queens to nearly-prepubescent dinglets, as well as everyone else who fell in between these two extremes.

We all had pink name tags on, our Guys4Men account names displayed for everyone to see and possibly take note. The group rented the resort for themselves, and after the brief socials where everyone was introduced to everyone else, a few naughty parlor games were played, and we all enjoyed plates of sweet spaghetti and sticks of barbecue, everyone gravitated towards the pool, which immediately became the center of flirting and cavorting. Others gathered around the videoke machine, and the queue of songs immediately lengthened as everyone punched in their own set list.

Because I was with Nico, I could only occasionally glance at some of the guys who caught my fancy. I was especially smitten by Lyndon, who had this sexual magnetism that I, along with several others in attendance, couldn't seem to resist. He was glorious in his underwear; he had the same lean, tan body that my ex had when we were both 17. Nico had introduced us to each other, but aside from that briefest of interactions, he never glanced my way again, so I came to the conclusion that that was that.

Imagine my surprise when the day after the party I found a message from Lyndon in my Guys4Men inbox. He reminded me that we had met the day before, that he was Nico's friend, and upon leaving his phone number, that if I was interested I should give him a text. In my defense I was lonely, it's been a month since I last had sex, and did I mention that Lyndon was irresistible? So I hope that I won't be judged too harshly when I say that on that same day as I received his message, I opened my apartment to him and we had one of the most explosive sex I've ever had. With how pretty he was and how many must be after him, I thought he only came by for the sex, though of course I nurtured the hope that I could entice him with more than that. So the second surprise of the day was to hear him ask me out.

“But what about Nico? Isn't he your friend?” I asked.

“He doesn't have to know. Besides, you aren't together yet, right?” he answered.

As the night deepened and we had managed to have dinner and see a movie, I surmised that I was very much enjoying Lyndon's company and I knew I wanted more. Though the conversation wasn't as interesting as Nico's, because I was still euphoric from that sex we just had, the scales had definitely tipped in Lyndon's favor. So before that day ended, as the year was ending and we were about to usher a new one, I found myself with a new problem: how do I date two guys at the same time?

Nico had never said we were exclusively dating and Lyndon hadn't asked me to stop seeing Nico. I wasn't sure if Nico was dating other guys aside from me but I was sure that with Lyndon's looks he definitely was. My dilemma was whether or not to say anything to Nico about Lyndon, or if it was better to keep that information to myself for the time being. I didn't want to be dishonest, but I didn't want to hurt him too, and because I had never been in this situation before, I didn't know what I should do. It was an exciting feeling to be honest, a huge ego booster knowing that I had two guys showing an active interest in me, but I feared that it was going to get confusing too. Was it implied that dating someone isn't exclusive until I say it was so? Is dating like American Idol, where I audition several guys until I reach that point of no return where I had to pick a winner? But if it was, then why did I feel guilty about it? And if dating two guys was a huge ego booster, how would it feel if I dated more than two? But if I was confused now, won't that be even more confusing then?

Scabs

Of all the days to pick at scabs, I picked today as the world neared the turn of another year. History has a way of repeating itself, patterns recurring, motifs reappearing, and to look back at the last five years now should be to gleam some lessons from it, to evaluate the life lived and see where I may have fallen short. The wounds may have still been fresh beneath the scabs. After all, how does one heal from the hurt of five years gone to waste without short of a miracle? I have often heard it said that it is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all, but as I heard it then and as I thought of it now, I couldn't help but notice how masochistic that false aphorism meant. To think that the greatest tragedy of my life was to have been left behind, not a flood or a sickness, neither ravaged by fire nor threatened by death. How could people live after tragedies I wondered, where did they get the strength to live? And then the question, where would I?

I realized that after the breakup I had lived through the days numbly, mistaking absolute denial for strength. That night when Alex picked up the rest of his things, I had many questions I wanted to ask him. Why did he let us go on for so long when he didn't believe we had a future? Why waste all that time and energy, why expend such effort for something he thought worthless? All these years was he trying to figure out whether our relationship was worth something or not, and was the break up the result of finally figuring it out and deeming it wanting? And the words that he picked to end things, how cutting they were, how penetrating: I don't see you in my future, like a seer that announced the definite ending of days. Would it have been easier to take if there had been someone else? Was it easier to rival someone else rather than myself? 

It wasn't as if it had all happened suddenly. Signs had been there all along: his refusal to talk about the future, of jointly buying a house, of sharing the cost of furniture, of the longing his eyes took as he saw a family with their children. But these were signs I refused to see for what they were because we were happy, or as near to happiness as two people who couldn't get married could ever hope to be. I believed we could weather through everything he found lacking in our relationship. After all, hadn't I been introduced to his parents, didn't that mean something? I was half hoping that his parents or his sisters would intervene for a reconciliation, but none of the sort happened, and until this day none of them had given word. They would have all known already after moving back in with his parents. We've had arguments but nothing went as far as a move out before. 

We always give up a part of ourselves when we fall in love. We trade privacy for companionship, trade solitude for support, and we begin to care about the well being of someone else beside ourselves. For couples who live together, we divide the chores between us and even learn to love some of them that the other hates. So when couples separate, an emptiness echoes in our houses, an absence of warmth and love, a vacuum that sucks out the last remnants of happiness that may still lurk in crevices. Nothing could ever prepare us from such separation, of realizing that the worst betrayal was from someone we absolutely trust and are willing to give our lives to. I felt so hurt that the thought of becoming friends with Alex eventually seemed impossible. I could only think of him now as a stranger, because if I thought he still loved and cared for me then why did he hurt me so? 

What to learn then from this ordeal? There might be a lesson here somewhere, but maybe it was too soon to see it yet. I sure wasn't going to stop falling in love again to prevent myself from being hurt again. That was the risk that came with love, and I wasn't so jaded as to believe that all gay men were pigs and were only put here on this earth to cause me pain. I would still believe in the redeeming power of love, of its ability to free us to become our best selves, of giving us meaning to live the best kind of life we can live. 

As the year turned to a close and how this particular one had upturned my life like I've never experienced before, I was keeping my optimism up that the next year was going to bring me something better, or if not better at least something different. I was sure that a new love was just around the corner, bidding its time, waiting for me to learn from this current heartache, waiting for me to heal, and when I'm ready it will surprise me with its presence, and love will blossom in the space between our hearts. 

Families

Days before Christmas, our gay circle headed for Circles to celebrate the season with a buffet lunch. It was the time of the year when the spirit of generosity was most alive, and who better to receive such generosity than our very selves. This yearly tradition had began three years prior, done for the first time on an expensive whim while the four of us sat at Starbucks 6750 wondering where to lunch. This friendship had seen through many changes in our lives: the death of Adam's mother and his estrangement with his father, Dan and Adam's work promotions, my college graduation and the start of my career, the death of my father, and Uno's permanent inclusion to our inner circle after he and Adam had broken up. We've helped each other weather many storms, and our conversations as we dissected our lives over coffee, weekday dinners and weekend lunches had saved us from ever needing therapy. Today was a celebration of the years of friendship as much as it was about Christmas, grateful for having found each other in the competitive world of gay Manila, our own tight little family. 

“So ladies, Christmas plans,” Dan said. 

“The usual: church with the family and then Noche Buena,” Uno said.

“Mom's spending Christmas with my brothers in Canada,” I said.

“You aren't going?” Adam asked.

“Nuh uh,” I said.

“Then let's spend it again together,” Adam said.

“And I'm coming along,” Dan said.

“Wait, why?” Adam said.

“Mike's going home to Davao,” Dan said.

“But you always spend Christmas and New Year together,” Uno said.

“Are you okay?” I asked Dan. 

“I cannot compete with his mother,” Dan said. 

“Why didn't he ask you to come along?” Adam asked.

“He did,” Dan said.

“But?” I asked.

“But I think he'd rather go alone to avoid awkward questions from relatives,” Dan said.

“He wouldn't ask you to go if he didn't want to,” Uno said.

“He's just asking him for the sake of asking,” Adam said. 

“Which is why I'm spending Christmas with you girls. You can all come over to the house, we'll cook Noche Buena, hear mass at the Cathedral, it'll be fabulous,” Dan said. 

“I wish I could go,” Uno said.

“Come over Christmas day. Maybe they'll let you out by then,” I said. 

“Dad called last night,” Adam said.

We all looked at Adam at the abrupt change of topic. 

“The married guy?” Uno asked.

“As in my real dad,” Adam said.

“Didn't he say you no longer exist to him?” Dan asked.

“His baby is in the hospital. He needs money,” Adam said.

“So it's okay to disown you and then still expect to get money from you?” Dan asked.

“I hope he's okay,” Uno said.

“It's dengue,” Adam said.

“I'm not even going to ask if you gave him money,” I said.

“Maybe this could be the start of a reconciliation,” Uno said.

“Or maybe it's the start of him abusing Adam's kindness,” Dan said. 

“Don't worry, I think I know when I'm being taken advantaged of. And besides, it's not that easy to forgive everything he's said and done to me all these years,” Adam said. 

“Okay. I think we all need some dessert, am I right?” I asked.

*

Christmas is supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year. But with many gay men unable to introduce their better halves to their families because they are still in hiding, and many gay men are still estranged from their families for coming out, the season becomes a bitter reminder of what we couldn't have for either being true to ourselves or for hiding who we are. Coupled with the fear of growing old alone, the fear of going against our parents' wishes are so great that some gay men choose to marry and have children, believing that such a personal sacrifice is worth our parents' approval, and that marriage and progenation are safety nets for our future loneliness. As I walked towards where the desserts were, I thought about Dan and Mike who despite the length of their relationship still had to be separated this time of the year for the sake of keeping up appearances, and I thought about Adam who despite all the wrongs his father did still helped him out of a sense of duty. I thought about gay men like myself who could introduce their boyfriends to their families, and how lucky we were, and how few we must be. I thought about duty, and love, and approval, and I couldn't help but wonder, do we really owe our parents anything, or do we only owe them to live our lives in our own terms, whether that life is for or against their wishes? Why do we have to break our own hearts so we don't break our parents' hearts? And why do theirs break when we follow ours? Why do hearts have to break when we follow love?