And so the final piece needs to be written. I really was hesitating to write it, but then, some things just have to come full circle. A lot of things happened in the intervening days and weeks since the first post of the After death chronicles was written. And so it comes down to this.
The second ex to be notified is actually more complex and touchy. If it could have been avoided all together, I would. I left a message in his Facebook account. I left my number and asked him to call me or text me so I could call him. I did not want to just drop the bomb like that on facebook messaging. Things like these need a voice. He replied belatedly with a message confirming if it was indeed me writing him a message. I understand. He's an 'otaku' or a tech geek. He is very wary of spams and scams on line. Besides, after the devastating break up, I imposed a total block and freeze over. No contacts. No news. No whatsoever. I refrained from making online trails that he may be able to follow for at least 18 months to get off his radar. No nothing. Only a few months ago was I surprised to find a friend request on facebook from him.
See, JM was his 'kuma-chan,' remember? Yes, he was THAT ex. Well, then we exchanged a few SMS' and I kept it within JM's parameters. No 'how are you's,' no how's life treating you's, just JM this and that. En route JM's burial he called me. He said he just got off the office and was asking where I was. I told him I was with the funeral caravan. He was asking directions and wanted to go but it was too far for him. See, I never asked him to meet up or whatever. I said what I had to say. That JM was gone, where he lies in state, when the funeral would be, and it would be up to him if he wants to make time and pay his final respects. I have done my job. Whatever he does next is none of my concerns and needs not my involvement in any way.
I was surprised to receive a call from him two days after JM's funeral. What now? He said he wanted to see me. He said it was his last work day for the week. He wanted to have coffee. I hesitated. This has nothing to do with JM. Then again, if it's true that I am over him really, then why fear a meet up. Fine!
And so, Starbuck's 6750 it was. I came before him because, though he works in Makati, he does not know his way around. I am now more geographically and navigationally adept than him in the metro. He said he was coming with a workmate friend. Tsch! Buffer! What a scaredy cat! Afraid to face the batchoy all by himself. Well...
I saw him and friend approach from the other side of the road. He looked a bit unkempt than he used too. Heavier, gruffier, and well... pardon me... dirtier. Tsk! The lover, if he has any, has poor 'hubby keeping skills.'
He approached my table. I stood up. Saw him open his arms wide and I just let myself be swept into his embrace. The world did not really stop like a sappy romantic flick. It was warm, it was nice and tight, and his hands and arms still knew the nooks and crannies of my body for maximum contact. No. No death defying nuclear meltdown. Not until he casually leaned his head sideways and comfortably found the perfect spot on my shoulder, nuzzling my neck with his stubble, just like he used to. Then boom!
And so, we talked. Why this was so, why such was such. He vehemently denied that the reason for the break up was a third party. They never became them. He said the real reason was that because he chickened out. He got so overwhelmed by our plans. We were literally on the edge and he got afraid to take the plunge. The leap of faith! He chickened out on us.
He went on to tell me how he felt that his life after me was one big melodramatic karma. Misfortunes, one after the other. The only thing that softened the blows was that he felt he deserved everything, for breaking my heart into fragments and smithereens. I felt my cheeks dampen. Too bad, but...
SO I agreed to come home with him. He is living in their family's ancestral house now, good stable job, nice hobbies and more or less more matured and driven life. But! The Luis Karma.
He was on the tail end of a degrading and disintegrating 3-year relationship. Dependency, bad sex and abuse of favors and kindness. The whole clan of the BF was practically living in their house. Bottomline... Bad sex.
When the doors closed we were all over each other. God! He still knows my body. Where to touch me, how to touch me, when to and when not to. Oh yes, there was sex. Mind blowing sex!
Death defying, soul severing, cosmic explosive sex! From the back of the door to the stairs, to the couch, to the showers, to the tub, to bed and beyond. All with the boyfriend and the family in the house and some visiting friends.
He said that his boyfriend's idea to save the bad sex was third wheeling. At first he liked the sexual release but later found it so dirty and started hating himself for it. I would have none of his drama. His situation, his luck, his call. I'm here to just get what I can take. After rounds of sex, while on cool down, he handed me a keychain. In his purry sex-logged voice he asked me to move my things and stay with him here for as long as I need until I get back to my trips for my Dad. How can I say no? Amazing sex? Oh and yes, the boyfriend 'pawed' me too. I consented to it so that if and when we get caught, I'd have a ready slap back. Hello, so you have now become the queen and role model of sexual purity and fidelity? And yes, we did get caught.
Days later, he finally broke up with the boyfriend. He insists that it was a long overdue thing and I had nothing to do with it. Whatever. The set up was perfect. Intimacy, warmth and a blazing Christmas, the I go back to my travels, and then some when I get back. Not until we talked...
Then I realized, I love him. Not with the remnant love or the dying embers rekindled, but with a brand new love for the him that he is right now. You know how love tends to muck up things, right? If this thing was able to survive the cold blast of silence and indifference and the soul sapping drought of no news and no nothing, then this must be something else. This hardy thing must be it!Now I don't want to take what I can get. I want all of it.
But he was not ready for me. He said it was so unfair for me to just drop in and breeze through his life the way I also did six years ago. That he had plans... that he needs time to heal... time to mourn... time to... whatever.
It was not easy. I told him that some people whine, gripe, pray and even coerce for a shot at something. We were so lucky to have been given two shots at it.
Then again... maybe this is really the message of the universe. He has to take his own flights. I have to take mine. Love just muddles it all up.
And one more thing does.
The promise we made that no matter what, he and I will always be there. No getting lost. No news block out. This. For now...
Looks like I made myself another one of those that defies labels or classifications.
So what are we? I asked. FuBu? Friends with benefits?
He said, "why the need to label."
I replied, "Fine, not FuBu not friends with benefits."
He asked, "what then."
Friends with Privileges.
Yes. Thats new!
He says he's Nelly Fortado's "I'm like a bird."
I said no... you're not a bird. Though you have a very nice one, hehehe. You are a butterfly.
Soar high my butterfly!