Ruth is a full-time writer. Foodie. Happy camper. Wanders a lot. Used to have the worst taste in men. A reformed swipe-a-holic. Reviving her blog after its death.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
written on the morning of Oct. 15
Would it be so bad if I wrote about Pat, again?
Tonight, I went to Pam's party in Red Box and Beatles night in 70s Bistro. I held on to my phone for dear life because Pam's birthdays and the casualty of my cellphone-related disasters are existentially connected.
After singing back to back to back Spice Girls songs with J and eating Jollibee’s chocolate eyes, Pat and I made our escape to Cubao to watch Area 1 perform Beatles' songs.
The last time we've attended Beatles' night we were not yet a couple, officially. I remember how we made an early escape back then so we could spend the rest of the night snuggled together inside the car and outside their gates to stare at the stars to talk. And yes oh yes, share a passionate kiss or two.
This time around, we were the first ones to arrive, look for a table and secure chairs for our friends. And no, we were not in any hurry to leave the place. Tonight, we just wanted to enjoy the music.
His passion for music is one of the few things that make me fall in love in with him all over again. There would be nights when we would stay in his bedroom (with his door wiiiiiiiiiide open) and he would share his favorite songs with me.
They were a lot! He would play songs from an irreverent Francis M to the familiar Eraserheads to the sappy, old love songs that I listen to when I drive and sometimes, when I can convince him, a song by the Spice Girls (he likes them too). But mostly, it would be songs of Beatles.
There would be times when our sound trip would lead to Rock 101 lessons where he would talk about the history of the group and some trivia about their albums. Other nights when I would be lucky, he would take out his guitar and play some of those songs for me.
One of the proofs that I can be incredibly dense sometimes is the fact that he's been playing "Something" to me the whole night while we were in Camiguin but I only found out that that was his song for me until recently when I asked him outright. Now, every time I hear the song I get goosebumps and my knees turn into jelly.
He would also warn me to behave through the "You can't do that." Even if it's just a song, it does make me nervous and make me all too aware of the consequences of me cheating on him.
I love watching him get lost in Beatles music. Almost like a lover, he becomes intimate with each song. But he never forgets to reach out for me and include me in this open love affair with John, Paul, George and Ringo.
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