The Changes I Never Saw Happening

For the record, I recall my last viral load count to be quite high. My CD4 count has gradually gone down a bit too for 2 consecutive check ups at RITM.

Frankly, it doesn't really mean anything to me. I am aware I've taken my medications religiously-- I may be shifted to a different cocktail, if the decrease of T Cells continue. I recall I ought to be reacting negatively toward this... but it really doesn't mean anything to me now.

Truth is, I'm happy. Genuinely happy with myself. This is more than just peace of mind and peace per se; it's that feeling that somehow I knew I've been looking for this feeling ever since I was but young.

And what is this feeling? It's being the little me again more than twenty five years ago. I just AM me now. All the stories I made up, all the masks I created as reactions to situations, all the negativity towards anything that brought me pain or anything that earned my ire through all those years: GONE.

It's really funny; I've been looking for answers out there all these years and I never knew that the real answer was buried in me; under layers of masks and, stories and roles that I made up to rationalize all the flaws and make myself correct.

Haha~

Seething with anger, I was obsessed with vengeance and the inability to let go of the past. Drowning in fear, I trembled before things that were not even really there yet. I wasn't wholly living with what was presently before me: life.

I learned to forgive myself.

In fact, just today, I was speaking to my ex, who is now really a very very close friend of mine. He told me that maybe I didn't notice, but there are huge changes with me that he notices me to clueless about.

Acknowledging what he had said, I just told him it still wouldn't really mean anything or much to me. It just is and I'm happy with it. Probably, so happy that I don't even notice at all.

With all the heavy feelings gone; I'm left with nothing: empty and meaningless.

And with this empty and meaningless beginning, I am awash with gratitude and joy as I am given the gift of having infinite possibilities.

And what possibility have I chosen?

I have chosen to be my mother's son: a candid and charming boy that will drive people crazy with joy, warmth and happiness.

I'm back to zero and I'm loving it.

Now I just wonder where did I even pick up the idea that starting with nothing was bad? Nah, I probably have forgotten why I even thought that way-- I wouldn't even look for it and probably never think so again.

My life now begins with a choice. I'm taking the first step alive~

See? Not even the decreasing CD4 count bothers me at all; point is, I know that I've touched the lives of many and probably have made changes that I never even knew were possible.

God, thank You~

I Lost the Lotto, So What?

I just had a walk coming from Burger King, just behind my house and I'm stuffed. The Whopper meal came with a bonus Whopper Jr. which I didn't expect.

After devouring everything, I walked home and enjoyed the cold weather which felt like San Francisco's cool breeze at 12 noon around a year ago. I'm still stuffed, typing this, but heck, I'm feeling great!

I joined the Landmark Forum by the way, after being bugged by an ex of my for nearly 3 or 4 years, or so? I just happened to join it now? Why? Gee, I dunno. At the end of it, he wondered aloud on me, asking why I took it when I found out I was positive. Well, I didn't really plan on taking it at all. I didn't even think I'd come out positive, Sherlock. But I guess by being so, I was able to share my story to my batch.

I was scared. I was skeptical and even cynical going there on my first day-- late even. It's a considerable amount, getting into it, but after graduating from it, I believe it's hella worth it.

I was probably the class' person with the busiest tear glands in his eyes. The coach really pushed me to come to grips with myself and face it-- my mom is the source of my life and I've been hating her for more than 10 years. What a freaking waste, right? Aide from the fact that I've kept my condition from her because of her still withstanding mediocre approval of my being gay-- how else could she deal with my being positive?

How else?

She took it well.

She knows it now. And after more than 10 years of bitchy drama queening, I finally got my mom back. No, she was always there; I was just really being the bitchy sour ass drama queen.-- I never knew it'd go that way.

I'm really enjoying my life now. As in, really. I'm enjoying how people compliment my smile and the way I look at other people when they talk to me.

I had a really cute date a few days ago, he told me how animated my smile and my eyes were when I interacted with the waitress who was taking our order and at the same time giving suggestions.

"You're eyes are cute when you look at people. It's like your pouring sunshine and smiles on them. She just might think you're hitting on her." He said.

"Really? You think so? (I was thinking he was getting jealous but since the waitress is a biological woman...) We're out late at night, just two guys, here at Shakey's, Malate, she's taking our order and she has the gall to even think I'm hitting on her? Come on, she's got it just by looking at us that we're on a very gay ass date." I retorted.

He laughed slightly and smiled.

Later on the date, I admitted it to him about me being positive. Wow, telling a date about my darkest secret on day one: my tactlessness has put Kris Aquino to shame on 2nd place.

Surprisingly he was cool with it. Well, he was first when he talked to me about his enjoyment with recreational drugs and I was totally fine with it. Well, with him in his case, since it's his poison. Everybody has catches, as do I. So, why even bother feeling righteous on a date?

It was great... I'm doing stuff I never thought I could actually do. (Except that I'm not going to ride extreme roller coasters in this life time, even if it were to save the world, hell no.)

Anyway, my state of shock has already subsided and has just turned into gratitude towards Pope Benedict for his incredible announcement of tolerance for the condom, and even using a male prostitute as an example for his rationale. If any of you feel like thanking him personally for the eye popping announcement of condom tolerance just click this link: http://www.thankyoubenedict.com/ . You've got to hand it to him, the Catholic world is now going ape, but in a good way, I believe. I actually cried in the car hearing this, feeling just like those pretty ladies reaching the top 5 of the Miss Universe pageant.

And speaking of leading ladies, I also joined my very first Gay Pride and World AIDS Awareness March that happened just two days ago around Tomas Morato, Timog and Panay Avenue in Quezon City. It was a blast! There were evangelist groups who were blocking our way putting up placards that 'Being GAY is a sin' and I just went up to this cute seminarian boy, holding a gay bashing placard and gave him a kiss on the cheek. The poor bastard looked confused! I'm sure he's fantasizing about me now in his sleep. He looked like he had potential to be gay anyway; so it just took a kiss, I guess. Ha haha~

All this has happened weeks after taking that Landmark forum. I was so surprised I became an inspiration to a lot of people there. I never knew they'd be so understanding. I was hesitant to open up but I thought I might as well... at least I opened up eyes for 135 people... opened up their minds too.

Well, a really funny downside to my story so far is that I've had my very first try at the mega lotto; having dreams of going way lavish and fabulous with 750 million bucks! But I lost-- along with the 90 million other Filipinos.

But with 750 million pesos, what do I need from that? That amount just couldn't buy the feeling and freedom and flight I'm having in my life now.

I lost the Lotto and so what?

I'm a son to my mom again. I've got the real peace of mind that I thought was bad fiction. And my life is no longer a reaction to things around me. I'm living.

Lotto? Who cares~

Yippeee~

Still Glad You're Here

It's been more than a month since we split up.

I've been skeptic, initially, about the hand of friendship that you've extended to me. Skeptic, to the point that I'd be hesitant to leave you at the table because there's a voice at the back of my head telling me that you might tap some kind of poison into my drink.

Those are just my fears resounding.

I'm beyond them now, believe me.

I totally accept the hand of friendship you've given. I'm your first boyfriend and I believe it is a good thing to keep the camaraderie alive. You and I are good company, I'll hand it to you since you opened the possibilities first.

Yet then, here I am, in a struggle with myself; telling myself that your 'yeses' and your 'nos' simply mean 'yeses' and 'nos'.

Facts are facts and those are the real truths. Whatever meanings I give them are simply stories which I've learned to veer away from to prevent unnecessary drama between you and me: we're great friends now and I couldn't ask for more. Or could I?

Ever since we split, we have attained considerable maturity and growth in varying aspects of our lives apart. This was one thing that, I believed, was lacking while we were together.

Are we missing something? Oh yes, we never had a discussion about why it ended... But when will it be?

With all due respect to you, I await your call for a summit between you and me.

At the moment, I am quite happy that you've finally come out to your family about being gay. Family will always be there for you. In fact, you feel that way to me. Nobody's been as welcome as you to my family if we take it in the ex boyfriend context.

To be honest, I tell myself that if you ever find someone whom you feel makes your heart skip a beat again, I would make myself available to you for advice and evaluation. I tell myself that. I do.

But those things are the future. Right now all I have is the present and we're still, somehow, together.

Honestly, I want to be authentic with you about this: I'm glad you're still around. Very very glad.

And I hope this comes full circle... you deserve it.

Why Stay Down?

It's over. 9 months and it was good, I believe.

Nine months is enough time to have learned a lot from someone. Of course, it hurt. I cried. I ought to because I'm human. But as a human, I ought to move on too.

I had to get up. I'm going against time here. We all are, in general, it's just that in my context, I'm more awake about that than most.

No offense to my ex. In fact, I stand up and dust myself off as quick as I could to show him that he has made me such a better person that I can get up on my own no matter how hard the fall and no matter how frustrating the circumstance-- and I appreciate learning from him.

I say this with all due respect and our shared love in mind and heart.

Most would think that there are so many things in life to rant about.

That's because they see with their eyes immediately. But have they tried looking at things with their eyes closed? Or looking at things from another point of view? Or even thinking of the summation of it all?

There are just too many things in life to laugh and be happy about.

Am I sick? I mean, yeah I'm infected but sometimes, I wonder why I can get up so fast. Not easy but fast. And with that pondering, I just think of family and friends and my passions and realize that this life has so much to live for me.

If I stay down, I let them down.

So why stay down, right?

It's just not me, really.

I'm way too competitive to sit and take it.

Sue me.

Nephew

This is a dialogue between me and my nephew while we were chatting in facebook, earlier today, while he was at school in ADMU.

We are ten years of age apart, and hearing his quaint revelation (which I had it coming anyway, ever since) made me feel really good inside. It's that same feeling of warmth when someone opens up to you and makes you feel that you are most needed in this world.

This is where it escalated:

Me: So let's just say that person A's the one on the losing end while person B is the one you're very much into now, right?

Nephew: Yes. they're both sweet and the greatest friends I could ever ask for ... but person A ... I didnt feel anything... I mean when i make lambing .. there's nothing ... compared to my old one ... Jessie ... i didnt feel the connection, but with person B ... it's like the same level and i just feel happier.

Me: Ok, but A invested emotions, right?

Nephew: yeah, and i did too, it came naturally for a bit then it disappeared then i tried forcing myself to like person A ... but now its just an effort ... so i decided to stop while with person B ... it's just coming naturally.

Me: So what's person B like? Wait, are they both girls?

Nephew: They're both very very very sweet.

Me: So what do you guys do?

Nephew: ....?

Me: .....

Nephew: Ummm I've something to tell you... Can this be a secret? Like, can you keep it from my mum... Ok, just basically, keep it a secret... I'm Bi.

Me: Well, have you noticed or have had a feeling that I knew about you ever since?

N: Really?

M: Yes.

N: Is that why you were asking if both persons involved with me are girls? =))

M: You know the saying: 'takes one to know one'? Yes, I've been asking you those questions to make you feel comfortable about it.

N: Yeah.

M: Have you noticed I bring my boyfriend around in family gatherings? I do it for you kids so you could have an eye opener that these are normal things.

N: Yeah, but I just hope my mom doesn't find out yet.

M:Your mom and dad went up to me years ago asking about you.

N: Oh. Really? What? I mean... what did they ask?

M: If you were going the other way. Around nine years ago, your mom and dad bumped into me at the Shang mall and asked me to sit with them.

N: I was but ten years old then :|

M: And as we finished with the pleasantries, she asked me if you were going the way I was.

N: Hehe

M: And I asked her to ask your dad how he felt about you.

N: So what did dad say?

M: He felt like you do things that most straight guys wouldn't do. So I told your mum that that was answer enough. but the thing is... i never really confirmed with your mother if she'd accept it or not. I never declared it seriously that you would be.

N: Oh well, I still like girls. It's just that I like a guy more now.

M: From where you stand, I stood there too. I had girlfriends. But in the end, I realized I sought affinity with them because of the social norm brought upon my upbringing. My heart won in the end and asked for men.

N: Well yeah.

M: So is your boyfriend cute?

N: He is not my boyfriend. Well not yet anyway.

M: Too bad it wasn't him that you brought to the prom.

N: Hahahahaha~

M: Does he actually know what's going on between the two of you?

N: Yeah, we actually talked about it before.

M: What was it like?

N: First we agreed that it's nothing serious. That we're just gonna have fun with it cause he just broke up with his girlfriend .. well she broke up with him.

M: Hmm ok, go on...

N: Then I was there to comfort him and things happened. Then after that he asked me: "What are we?"

M: He told you he likes you?

N: Well... the 'thing' wouldn't have happened if he didn't like me.

M: You did it?

N: We did it.

M: So what did you tell him when he asked about you two.

N: I said it's nothing serious and we should just have fun so, like, for a while it was just that. But then I started falling and I forced myself to not like him. Because we agreed but then we talked again a few weeks after that

and, well, he said maybe we should stop what we had, because i might just end up getting hurt, because he isnt sure if he likes me; because i was there when he needed someone, or what. But he said that he likes me but he doesnt want me hurt... plus all the social criticism and all that blah

I listened to every bit of it... He sounds like me when I was 19. He was very anal (hahaha) about issues and thought of every angle possible. But in the end, this kid wants to have fun... and then he falls in love.

Listening to him felt like listening to me ten years ago.

Listening to him reminds me of how simple things made me happy.

Listening to him reminds me to remind him...

To wear a condom.

The Dancing Traffic Policewoman

Crossing one of the most nefarious detours in Metro Manila, where sidewalks are packed with informal settlers in a ridiculously similar way how hot dogs are vacuum packed, and you can see the junk just pressing itself on the plastic, I braved the Makati to San Juan route via Mandaluyong where a really ugly poster depicting how dangerous AIDS could be was hung for everyone to see.

The crowd, the poster, the gloomy, sobbing clouds and the rut I was in was enough. It felt like you just pulled that last sheet of toilet paper in a public restroom. It was horrible.

I knew that in a few days or within a week, my boyfriend would be breaking up with me. He will be. His texts and his behavior and our chemistry is going that way. It's logical economics and economics doesn't care what you feel-- it just happens.

I still keep itsy bitsy pieces of sweet memories that we had. The most recent was the moment he told me that I write much better than E from the Chronicles of E. I didn't really react much but it made me feel warm and fuzzy inside.

But those memories and the like are just an SRS bag for a bullet train collision. The thoughts keep going around in my head while I was driving, and it was almost about to send me to the loony bin until she came.

Yes.

There she was. At the last intersection that would end one of the most grotesque detours in Metro Manila: The Dancing Traffic Policewoman. She wasn't just dancing. She was grooving! she made moves that ended with vogues and poses that made her kneel on the punished asphalt of Shaw Blvd. I am not exaggerating. This woman danced with heart, body and the funkiest soul since Michael Jackson that people who were halted or goaded by her in traffic couldn't stop but slide down their vehicles' windows and smile, cheer, compliment and even applaud her. There were even bystanders from the deeper parts of the intersection who had to move closer to the sidewalks to catch a glimpse of her. She was being a legend!

The clouds were gloomy. The route was horrid. I felt like I was retching. and there was no silver lining on them clouds at all. None. But there was The Dancing Traffic Policewoman. She was my hero this afternoon.

She made me feel hope and made me think that no matter how ugly the road ahead of me may seem, and no matter how measly her salary could be or how base her lifestyle could get, she can live her life the way people would go out of their way to just find out who she was, what she could do and how she can make them remember her.

It did remind me too, that for a moment in time, my baby who's about to say bye-bye played the role of that Policewoman. He made me happy beyond any other guy I've ever had-- for a time.

But he's been complaining. And it's probably true, I can no longer emotionally handle his trust issues on me. I haven't admitted it to him at all because I'm being scared. Scared that he'd leave me. Scared that he'd saying hurtful things. Just scared.

But with this simple drive through what may seem to be an ordinary afternoon traffic jam reminded me of my selfishness.

My baby deserves to be happy. And it is just plain unfair if I keep him bound to something that no longer makes him happy. And I'm being unfair to myself if I don't confront my fears and just stay stagnant. If I don't learn from this, I might as well be that ugly picture of a person drenched with blood and with an AIDS sign wrapped around my eyes.

He wants to be happy, and if I really love him, I want him to be happy too.

This week will probably end with an ending and a beginning. There are valuable things to be learned. Special memories to be commemorated. Doors to close and windows to open. And finally, if he allows it, become his friend.

If he does find it amiable, then he'll be my first ex boyfriend to actually be a friend-- in exchange to the fact that I'm his first boyfriend. (That's too much to expect, eh?)

I cannot prolong this anymore.

I love him.

And much like the Dancing Traffic Policewoman, who gave me such a unique experience, that I saluted and smiled at when I passed through her as she gave the signal for my lane to go. I, too, must follow my baby's signal, say my piece that he deserves for the happiness he has given me, and let him make others happy the way he made me happy for seven blissful months of his company or just simply me being alone wondering about him and cherishing what we have in my thoughts.

My destination continues to come closer but people like him will always be remembered.

Always.

I love him.

Manila Gay Guy, The World Cup and a Little Fall of Rain

Being too analytical, I forgot to include a spark in my thoughts with regards to Manila Gay Guy's book launching alongside E's'Chronicles of E'. Being too occupied with the world cup schedules and reports, I was in a hurry and couldn't include it in my last post.

A sample piece narrated by Manila Gay Guy somewhat reminded me of a key factor to anyone's outcome in their life: the parent.

A mother shared her dilemma to him regarding her son, who at the tender age of 7, seemed to turn out to be gay. The kid's innate ability to imaginatively transform toy guns into blow dryers, a dead ringer to most of us, made her question her child's orientation. The author cited his thoughts which had a more supportive aspect for the child's behavior and it ultimately conveyed the idea of filling the child with the right kind of love, no matter what. Not really spoiling him, but it turns out that it ought to give the child his ability to stand in a country where young boys, in general, would usually bully fruity tadpoles into submission (not that I'm complaining about leather and bondage); especially in exclusive schools. He ended his piece with a salvific note from another blog follower of his that guaranteed a hundred fold return of love from that child when he grows up; besting the ideas that he would even put his own mother first before any boy that melts his budding heart.

It was nice to hear. Really. I didn't just hear. I listened to it. I let myself bask in the thought of it because it was so ideally and politically correct and sound. And the good news for that mother and her unicorn riding princess of a son is that they still have the time to do the right thing and do it right.

Good news for them. Not for me.

My mother did it the way she believed was best: she sent me to a shrink; resulting with the shrink agreeing there was nothing wrong with me and that my mother ought to have listened to me or what my heart had to say.

Too~ late~

It's not really much of a big deal now. I know my mother all too well that she'd listen to what she thinks is right especially if you were subordinate to her ergo one of her children. I'm not saying that I'm parallelizing her magnitude to how HIV weighed on me, I'm just giving credit to her for prompting me to develop a side that can coldly cope and treat any real life situation like it was a arithmetic problem to be solved on the board: you digest it, you deal with it, you put what you believe is the answer, and you turn your back on it with a smile. It doesn't have to be correct. You're not here to please everyone. You just deal with it the way life has carved you to move. Thanks to my mom, I deal with the nasties with practical thinking and humor that's as dry as a California Raisin. And no, she's not gonna hear this from me any moment soon.

It's just fun to hear about very young kids turning out to be gay and it's giving their mother a miracle that puts them at wit's end either to think it good news or bad news. Really cute.

Speaking of news, the world cup has just ended and the finals was a bonanza of fouls, yellow cards, a red card with dismissal and free kicks galore. It was Spain versus The Nederlands. Just last night, neither of the countries have taken home the World Cup. (if you're wondering why I'm talking about Soccer in detail, I can assure you I'm still gay and I'm driving at something here) It's the finals, and like I said both teams haven't sank their fangs on a World Cup title which equates to a prompt for desperation. Against Spain's superb possession skills and their creative passing and sneaky offense, the Nederlands, being physically bigger and bulkier than our former conquerors, knew they would need something to counter the enemy's finesse: the Dutch put their dukes up-- literally.

Pushing, shoving, tackling, tripping and even kicking a Spaniard's torso was part of their imaginative inventory. True enough, smoking legal pot really DOES give you great ideas where to swing your leg at. The 'Fallen' Dutchmen were a perfect example of how people could make mistakes during times of desperation.

Theirs was a predicament I wouldn't mind being in. In fact, to some, I already am in one. But again, like I said, I do not mind because there are times that you cannot change the predicament but you can most definitely change your approach.

That's the mistake my mother made long ago. She wanted to change my predicament. I, being young at that time, was not yet equipped enough to take it with grace and I did my own 'Nederlands' then and here I am now, writing this but with a smile because I accept that the predicament cannot be changed but my approach can be, that I know, deep in my heart, has won a World Cup of its own.

Thanks Manila Gay Guy, you make sense. Thanks `ma, you blew it but because of that, I won't. And thanks Nederlands, you got four more years to realize that Soccer's rules don't change.

And about the little fall of rain? Hehehe, I'm just writing this while it's raining outside. Rain inspires me.

I hope the rain helps to bring down the electric bill soon, though.

Viva España!!!

And Iker Casillas was hot!!!

So there, I proved my point. I stand gay.