transmogrifying palanggang sam in reverse

no, i'm not one of those too deluded to claim sam milby as more than just their sex object (but i got to admit he's such a yummy babe--right, piolo?). the reference is of course, my immediate past palangga, sam fuentebella, and in the case of our reunion, not my former beau any more, but my beau, period. hmm, everything comes full circle: we broke up most inappropriately during the affairs of the heart, last valentine's that is, and as the day of the dead approaches, we're reviving a homosexual love that's supposed to be long resting in peace somewhere in the dark recesses of the netherworld. last i visited him in his workplace, i asked the one life-altering question that either secures the crown in place or kicks me out of the latina-dominated final race: "so, tayo na ba uli?" to which he readily replied, "oo naman; bakit, may iba ka na ba?" complete with the lilting hiligaynon accent. i was so jubilant i almost purchased all the metal kitchenware he was selling to be thrown as confetti in the mall's glorietta. then again, i realized we're beginning all afresh. for a socio-politico-moral future so bleak between lovers of our sort, what's in store for me and my beautiful sam? we're both financially unstable, so how do we migrate to canada or anywhere same-sex domestic partnership is legally sanctioned? does being with sam mean having to revel and languish alternately over the numerous gays openly making passes at his gorgeousness? how about my extra-curricular activities--with sam as the right one, how may i resist outright the damn-hot wrong ones who can replay pavlovian experiments merely by flexing their biceps or by making their twinky eyes smile? and does seeing sam mean having to see and pine and lust over his priestly, hotter brother troy? methinks love of the homosexual kind's bound for a sisyphian-like suffering that i or any other paminta guy for that matter must endure. all together now: through the fire, to the limit, to the wall...