Sunday, September 02, 2007
Let me post my review of Tanghalang Ateneo's "Buwan at Baril" at a later time, for I feel that what transpired last night far exceeded the drama of everything that has happened since I met Gorgeous. It has been a full year since we got together, and seeing him last night was a pleasant surprise.
After enduring three hours of out-of-context activist play in Ateneo (it would've been more believable if UP staged it instead), I braved the drizzle and broke into the nearest KFC. While relishing my favorite cream of mushroom soup, I replied to Hunk's message which answered my query if he and friend Gorgeous still visited the blue bar I met them in. Hunk lamented that it might take long before I'd get to see them around, since they came to the bar less and less. While I also texted Gorgeous, I did not get any reply from him. This, after months of silence and blissful relationship with Blueseraph. I left KFC to take a jeep ride in Cubao en route home. At the terminal overlooking the new bar being frequented by gay guys, I saw, of all people, Gorgeous, heading straight (pardon the double pun) toward the said bar. My mind raced as fast as the adrenaline rushing toward my nose: do I go in or not? I was adamant since someone I know might misconstrue that I was inside the bar in my capacity as Ara Mina's character in "Two-Timer." However, the greater need to reunite with a long-lost love (well, almost) eclipsed my hesitation. I forked in my P200 and waded my way through the sea of smoldering hot gay guys. I thought, if I were in hell, 'pleased to meet you all, hunky devils. I promised that the visit would be the first and the last under the pains of Inquisition, Blueseraph-style.
I needed proper timing and the necessary boost, so I exchanged my stub for a grape drink and pretended to be so intoxicated while dancing topless to the tune of Milky's "Be My World." Then, I witnessed Gorgeous shaking his booty with a tall, slim guy at the staircase leading to the mezzanine. When they decided to get a wider place to dance (and possibly make out) in, I steeled myself and came up to him, as they were moving toward my general direction. He broke into a boyish smile reminiscent of Marc Nelson's, but I just planted a wild kiss on his face. He didn't resist nor his partner give me a flying kick, but something unsettled my sensibility.
There were no sparks flying. No fireworks. No rainbow-colored tingeing of the atmosphere. Most importantly, the world did not stand still. The first kiss: nothing more than.
When it became apparent that lawsuits were not about to fly inside the place, I told Gorgeous that I texted him to ask how is he doing. He apologized that he hasn't checked his phone yet, and proceeded in greeting me Happy Birthday. He remembered! However, it was not enough to make my heart do a jumping rope the way his mere smiling before would register an intensity 9 tremor in my personal galaxy.
Sarah Michelle Gellar aka I had no cruel intention of spoiling Gorgeous' night with his less-hot acquaintance, so I excused myself and trekked toward the exit. I glanced at him for the last time, and saw him trading passionate kisses with his partner. Again, no stabbing of imaginary fork into my ribcage. No deluge of ice-cold water in my chest. Congratulations, Little Gapanese! You've successfully moved on.
At the smallest hours of the morning, defying exposure to holduppers and snatchers in the benighted streets of Cubao, I texted Blueseraph, "Hindi ko alam kung paano mong nalamang kailangan kita sa buhay ko, pero salamat." I hailed a jeep bound for home amid the echoing beat of Bonnie Bailey's "Ever After."