Why look so far away?

"Yeah, I missed May too," I wrote. "That was my best month."

"Mine too," Lizette replied. "Met Marco that month."

By now I'm already used to hearing people extol the virtues of romance. Excessive idle time last Saturday exposed me to the reality that everyone, however unseeming it may be, would most definitely have a squeeze to call their own. You know, at first glance, the ones who don't and the ones who do, but there are the ones that mislead. There are the ones that manage to give you a false sense of hope, but somehow, you know that deep inside someone already has the price.

"Yihee," Lizette added.

I was starting to feel a combination of discomfort and hyperactivity.


"Hahaha," I typed in. "No comment ako."

The really observant ones would have noticed earlier today that, for some peculiar reason, my head was turning to one direction. But I consider myself lucky, though, because everyone was entranced, to say the least, with Angie Ureta's talk that Caresse's group organized. Now, this is very far-flung from another blog entry about love and why I can't seem to get it even if I tried, but the thought of why I always daydreamed myself in the arms of someone whose probability of doing so is less than zero has finally caught up with me. Why I insist on the daydreams is one thing. Why I insist on their characters is another.

Then again, I'm not really the romantic type. It's a quick refusal, and very convenient for me, but somehow my mind has an ongoing fascination with the grand and the mushy. It still has. I have always entertained grand plans - the little gift may not seem so, but the effort into thinking over what exactly to give is in ways a big thing. Give me a couple and I'm bitter, however. At the bus I sensed a young woman hug her young man, and the weirdest instinct kicked in - I turned back, and they stopped in their tracks.

"Three... I just don't like the yihee feeling."

"You know, when you fall in love yourself, you'll love the yihee feeling. You'll be pure molten cheese. That's the way it works. Ang masasabi ko lang sa'yo - may araw ka rin."

Maybe I am just scared of the entire thing. It's no secret I've felt the so-called yihee feeling for a few times - that unexplained glee that fills you whenever something involving whoever it is comes around and hangs out in your psyche. But, as with every drug, there is a side effect - it hurts as time passes, when it becomes all too certain, until you'd want to recant your belief that you have fallen in love. Closer to the infatuation that matters.

And maybe that's what it all has been lately. Infatuation, fascination, delineation, whatever it is you prefer to call it - it will never be close to anything. I suppose that, despite the fact that there are more women than men, finding someone to settle down with is a very hard task to do. It's not exactly about the superficial standards that advertisements force down your throat - I'm privy to that as well - but more of the attempts to make sure that you do it right, or get out of it gracefully. Maybe I've done better with time, once in enduring the worst of exits, to dodging all controversy, but nevertheless it still makes the rounds of your brain. It's hanging out, jamming to cheesy love songs on your set of ear drums.

That certainty, however, has made me a little assured. You can call it an extreme, but I don't believe in these things as much as I used to. Offer me to sit down with you and I'll never turn right with every fragment of discussion, but nevertheless I'm blushing. Heck, it used to be an imagined reality, and now it is happening! And then I depart, make some fuss over it, and then think that it wouldn't go past there.

So, can anybody explain to me why today I felt as if I am really meant for someone? Why is it only now that, when I've fully decided on not getting married, I feel that I am meant for settling down to a domestic life and being happy with it? I don't know what exactly there is, but beyond the innuendo-laden lines I was throwing at Anna earlier, there's the feeling that it will actually last. And more surprisingly, it's coming from something I'm not really expecting it to come from.

For the next few minutes my mind will surely drift on the idea that all that has attracted me are there for something. You know, the stuff that brings you back to earth and gets your priorities straight. The conversation is one thing, but cigarette smoke in the suburbs is another, and subtle playfulness is yet another. I guess tomorrow I'll forget about it and get giddy once I decide to make silhouettes permanent again.

"Feh," Lizette wrote. "Let me watch you eat your words."

"Hahahaha," I typed back. "For how long?"

"As long as it takes."

And your responses...

a little warning though. try not to fall in love with the idea of being in love. it spells disaster most times.

damn word verification. i hate this shit. damn thing asked me to type hiacaeyq! the hell.

okay. i got that one wrong. now its ptihcc. now's easier. bitch.

Anonymous Anonymous10/23/2007     

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