Tuesday, June 09, 2009

My dear Patrick,

I love it when we watch the same TV show even though we're apart.

I love our regular Tuesday-Friday-Saturday dates and all the "just because" dates in between.

I love it when you try to understand me when I'm being mean to you.

I love it when we eat out and try to prove that good food doesn't have to be expensive.

When I look at you I see my future, my dream house, my kids.

I go crazy thinking about things that could happen to us that might rip us apart because I know it has to be because of something dreadful.

It gives me so much pleasure thinking about how after two years I've grown to love you more and more.

There's not one piece of me that doesn't want to be near you. If I could hug you all day, I would.

Stay close to me, we'll make more magic.

Yours,

Ruthie

Labels: lurve layf

::: random thoughts by ruth ::: 0 comments

Sunday, June 07, 2009

There's a big dream that I want to fulfill this year (or maybe early next year).

One that will take me away from Pat for awhile. I think I need this time away to reassure myself that we're still two separate people growing together. I'm becoming too dependent to him for our own good.

Labels: lurve layf

::: random thoughts by ruth ::: 1 comments

Tuesday, August 05, 2008

Eighteen months together and I could still stay up until the wee hours of the morning just thinking about Patrick’s smiles and silly jokes.

I still remember how his lips pressed on to mine for the first very time. I thought he had the softest lips and it felt good. I couldn’t believe that it took me 26 years to find the man I know my father would approve of. I spent the first few months of our relationship in awe of him.

I was such in awe of him that there was one night when I cried in his arms because I felt unworthy. That night, I wished I had been more patient. I wished I gave myself more respect. I wished I believed that I deserved better because I did.

“I wish I waited for you,” were all the words I said to him. He hugged me tightly as if he would never let go. Without so much as an explanation, I knew he understood what I meant. If my tears were an apology for my unworthiness, his warm hug was his forgiveness.

“I do not judge you,” I remember him saying. It made me cry a whole lot more because I thought he was perfect and I was a big mess.

I am having flashbacks of that night with Pat because I’m worried for one of my dearest friend. I think she’s in the position where I used to be.

I know the excitement of falling in love for the first time. I know how a fingertip could cause a ripple of electricity through the whole body leaving you weak but smiling. I know how delicious it feels to read simple messages of “good mornings” and “good nights.”

But love has to be right or else it won’t be love. It could be emotions simulating symptoms of love but it’s not love.

Love, first and foremost, should be kind to you. If you say that the one you love is your friend, all the more it should protect you. Friends don’t hurt friends.

Love your neighbors as you love yourself. This is a double whammy. First, never take your momentary happiness at the expense of other people. It’s not worth it. It will never be worth it because karma’s slap is a bitch.

Second, love yourself first. I discovered that I loved myself more than the jerk I’ve been dating. Unfortunately, my discovery came a little too late. I got rid of him but my self-respect was in tatters. It was not easy. I was devastated when he was gone. I cried too many times and I thought the unbelievable pain was never-ending.

I mean can you imagine? For the past six years he had been part of my life. It’s like being a chain smoker deciding to quit through cold turkey. The withdrawal was ugly.

Losing him was not even the worst part. I had to live with myself when he was gone. Realizing what I did made me feel dirty. No amount of scrubbing with loofah and Safeguard could remedy that.

Men are not the only option. Yeah, I would admit that I was thinking of going out with other men when he was gone. Believe it or not, there had been offers, some more lascivious than others. But it was not the men who pulled me through.

It was my friends. They were the ones who took me out on dates when I was feeling depressed. They bought me bouquet of flowers and burned copies of love songs. They wrote me letters of love. Texted me “I love yous” when I needed to hear it. They fixed my hair and applied my lipstick whenever I would go out with my crush.

Everyone was just one phone call away. I remember how I would call all of them up in the middle of the night just so they could listen to my sobs.

“There, there,” in sleepy voices they would say.

I remember how they rallied behind me, plotting vengeance on my behalf. I remember how they would threaten to bash my head to a wall if I fall into a relapse and suddenly feel the urge to be stoopid again. It was a weird phase of my life.

I lost one love but my friends replaced it with so much more.

****

That is the reason why I will never have respect for insecure bastards who don’t have the balls to make a decision.

I will also have no respect for jerks that make a conscious decision to make any of my friends as their “meantime girls” on the side while they’re trying to fix the relationship with their “forever girls.” Even when my friends say they know what they’re doing.

I wish there were more patience to go around with.

Patrick came to my life unexpectedly. He came to me when I made my standards with men higher. He came to me when I made a promise to myself that I will never settle for mediocre relationships ever again.

Labels: lurve layf

::: random thoughts by ruth ::: 3 comments

Sunday, May 25, 2008

How to properly kiss my grandma (and how to win over the rest of my family).

An instruction of etiquette for Patrick when he attended our grand family reunion in Iloilo last May 17.

1. Pucker up. Our family doesn’t go for half-baked kisses which you do when you brush your cheeks against the other person’s cheeks. When we kiss, we make the perfect “Ohs” with our mouths and when our lips touch skin it makes a smacking sound.

2. Hug tightly. There are no sissies in the family. Hugging is something to be enjoyed and relished. Since you’re new to the family, it’s okay if the hug doesn’t last for more than five seconds. In the future, when my family stops looking at you with suspicion make sure that your hug lingers.

3. Eat with gusto. Eat everything that is offered to you. We are not you’re typical probinsyano who gives the best food on the table to the guest. We are the opposite. We give our children the best chicken parts. During fiestas, my Lola does not serve the fruit salad even to the most distinguished guest. She doesn’t care if you’re the mayor of the town or you hold an important position in a company.

Her grandchildren are her distinguished guests. If she takes out something from the refrigerator and she said she made it, eat it. Tell her that you like it. If you didn’t, shut your mouth and chew your food. You’re lucky she even made the effort to share it with you.

4. Act interested. When my Titos and Titas talk about their day at work, whether it’s as mundane as raising chickens and pigs or as important-sounding as running an electric company make sure you ask questions. They like to share what they have achieved.

5. Wake up early. Our children will be excused to stay up late and we are not exactly expected to toil the soil. However, we are expected to walk around the farm and inspect every fishpond and dams, every orchid planted, every new renovation made in the house.

6. Love them unconditionally. They will be weird and dysfunctional. They can be mean and horrifying. But once they considered you as one of us, you can be assured of undying loyalty and support from every single one of them. You can commit murder and you won’t have to worry about the body. Welcome to the Mafia!

Labels: lurve layf, mafia

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Wednesday, August 29, 2007

I watched “Paris Je T’aime”(a collection of 5-minute films about people finding and experiencing love in different forms, in unlikely places) with Pat. It made me wonder how our relationship will be portrayed if we were part of that film.

Are we going to be the individuals who ran circles around each other for years, interacting with one another but never really seeing each other until that one perfect moment? Are we going to be the great friends who unknowingly fell for each other? Am I going to be the bully who demands things from her man because she knows he’ll give in? ^_____^

Personally, I prefer our story to be shot on a good day with several flashbacks of our worst. I want the good to be emphasized because a hundred worst days with him are worth a great one with anybody else. And because finally, here is a person who complements me in every way. I would like to think that I complement his life as well.

We could talk for hours about UAAP, the situation of our brave soldiers in Basilan, the inefficiency of our government, love, our future together, our kids and our plans for them, our past, religion, almost anything that we could grapple our minds into. But we could also spend a whole day with not so much of a conversation; our exchange of words limited to repeating my moniker for him in different tones and voices.

When things start to get stale and boring, we try something new. Like going to a spa, or visiting Manila Zoo and start feeling sorry for the animals in the cages, or waiting for the elusive sunset in Harbor Square while sharing calamares and not-so-spicy gambas.

We usually have our fights days before I get my period. I would be extremely moody and hateful and cry for no reasonable reason. It’s a no-win situation for him because nothing he’ll do will ever be right. But after a day of no talk and crying, he would be the first one to break the silence and apologize and literally sweeten me up through a bar of chocolate (conveniently forgetting that he frequently asks me to jog with him so I could shed a few pounds).

Apologizing would come easier for him that it would for me.

Kathy once asked me if I think Pat is The One because I want him to be that way. In a way, yes, I want him to be The One so bad that I would do everything in my power to make the “us” part work.

But mostly I know that he is The One because he is a person I know I could live with; who wouldn’t think less of me when I walk around the house without brushing my hair or teeth (not a pretty sight or smell); who probably couldn’t cook but would make me laugh with his sincere attempts; who would love my dogs as much as I do.

I see myself making pancakes for him the morning and giving him a massage at night. I wouldn’t mind learning his boss’s favorite dish so he could invite him over for dinner. I want to sit in the gondola with him when I go to Venice. I want to read my favorite books to his kids.

Halfway through the film of “Paris,” I rested my head on his shoulders and tightened my hold of his hand. I closed my eyes and tears involuntarily fell. I thought that here is a spot where I wouldn’t mind staying for the rest of my life.

***

While chomping on raw fish last night, I complained to Pat that raising kids are so expensive that by the time we would be able to afford to travel the world we would be so old. Then I stopped. Mental images of me and Pat silver-haired and crinkly aboard a gondola, kissing under the bridges suddenly became a bright idea.

Labels: lurve layf

::: random thoughts by ruth ::: 3 comments

Thursday, May 10, 2007

Because the bitch in me had to get out

Pat and I had another non-fight tonight. I term it as non-fight because we didn’t have a fight. It was more like I-stopped-talking-and-he-started-apologizing kind of thing. I got annoyed with him for a very shallow reason.

He started saying sorry and with every word, my heart melted for him. But I never opened my mouth to tell him that it’s alright.

While driving with him beside me, I was thinking how good his hands would feel against mine or how warm I would feel inside when he snuggle close to me and tease me with his silly high-pitched voice. I was thinking how hugging him beats the happiness I feel when I stare at the hundreds of sunflowers every summer in UP. I was thinking about his perfectly-shaped lips and how mine would fit perfectly in it.

But I never said a word. Not even when he reached out for me and touched my elbows. Not even when he coaxingly traced my arms with his fingers. Not even when he said his apologies for the nth time.

I was being a bitch, I know. This is not an excuse for my actions but every time I come close to getting hurt, my systems just shut down. Whenever I get mad at him or vice-versa, I enter this cocoon where everything’s safe because I automatically numb my feelings.

I know it’s wrong but I enter that Zone unconsciously. Saying sorry is such a bitch.

The funny thing is I don’t want to ever lose him. As soon as he got off from my car, I wanted to call him back and kiss him. To tell him that I was being hormonal, so will he please forgive me? Or tell him jokingly that he should be able to read my thoughts or at least pretend that he could most of the time.

Of course, I did none of those things. I went home feeling the emptiness beside me.

Labels: lurve layf

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Monday, April 02, 2007

****
Ha! This month was a whole lot better than the last. :D

Labels: lurve layf

::: random thoughts by ruth ::: 2 comments

Monday, March 12, 2007

My life is no longer a telenovela.

I don’t quite know how to answer my friends when they ask me how things are between me and Patrick. “Fine” is stale. “It’s wonderful!” is cliché. “I’m happy with him” is boring.

I’m sure that they are perfectly willing to listen to my yakking how great things are but I don’t know where to start.

Should I start by saying that Pat would fetch me from school every Wednesday and we would sometimes lie on Sunken Garden? That he would scold me when I laugh at silly college boys falling at the uneven ground of Sunken? That we would talk about our future under the stars?

Or that we would eat cheap steaks in one of his favorite hunts? Or that our lives are in constant search for cheap food and great taste? That he would oblige when I ask him to give me gifts? That he would do something, anything when I tell him?

That I love kissing him on the cheeks (at least fifteen times in a minute)? That he calls me his woodpecker because of it? And that his eyes did not even linger over a Viva hot babe when we saw one on the mall? He says that I’m his Viva hot babe (I think he lost his head when he said that).

That he makes me laugh with his corny jokes? That all my friends who met him, loves him? That he gets really scared if they tell him that they would kill him if he cheats or in any way hurt me?

That my eyes are shaping into hearts whenever I talk about him? That my heart swells with pride when I talk about his passion and interests? That maybe this is it. He is The One for me.

That even though our relationship is far from perfect, I know that between the two of us, we would be alright. That even at the height of our most serious fights, we would make up.

I’m happy. From the outside, my life is not as interesting as it was when an asshole was making a pass on me while he made a go for every girl in his circle, all at the same time. Thank God, only the Stupid One fell for him while the other girls became my friends and we compared notes and laughed at his antics. Yes, I can now laugh about it whereas before his betrayal caused me nothing but anguish and pain.

Last I heard, she’s guarding him like a three-headed dog and he doesn’t even have the balls to go out and meet his friends. I applaud the girl. She knows how to handle a skirt-chaser. I’m sure, as soon as she turns her head, he’s off making goo-goo eyes with some poor girl who doesn’t know any better.

Or maybe it’s just me. Maybe, they still think that I am not worthy to be in the presence of the Most Gorgeous Asshole in the whole wide world. In Yoda’s voice, “Deprive me of his presence they must.” I agree, I’m not over yet. I’m not over the fact that I’ve been duped by a prick. This makes me beneath him (pun unintended).

Even now, I wonder, does she know that I know some details about their dates because he told me about it? He didn’t give me her name at that time, of course. To do so would require some balls. Did she know that while they were still dating, he’s having sex with some other girl, kissing some other girl, making “the moves” with yet another girl, all the while telling me that he doesn’t think he knows how to love? And those were the only girls that I know about. I wonder how my Casanova keeps up.

Oh yeah, I remember when he told me he was already making out with his “date” but he misses the feeling of being “in love” which at that time, I presumed his way of saying that he misses me. Of course now I know that it’s not even possible because how can anyone even think about me when they can be with her?

If they end up together, I can’t ask for a better ending. They so deserve each other. If they don’t, that’s okay, being the pretty, gorgeous creatures they both are, I’m sure that as soon as they step one foot out of their house, somebody would be falling all over for both of them.

See, my life is not as exciting as it was before. That’s why I’m resuscitating a dead issue, because if I don’t, it will be all flowers and rainbows and bunnies running on the field.

***

To get away with all that negative energy, I would write something about what happened to me last Saturday.

Pat and I just finished a nice late lunch at Butter Diner in Cubao when I asked him to come with me while I search for some pc games that I like. I was too busy searching for cd titles and giving him public hugs and kisses that when we reached the parking lot and I reached for my key I noticed how the zipper of my bag was open. I couldn’t find my phone!

I spilled all the contents of the bag inside the car and still I couldn’t find it. We retraced our steps back to Butter Diner and the stall we bought the CDs from, but it was a futile exercise.

I asked him to accompany me to Greenhills so I could buy a new one. I bought the exact model so my mom would not be suspicious. I’m broke and this is karma.

What’s so positive about this post? I have a new phone, even though nobody would notice because it’s the same color and model. I’m the most generous person in the world because in Pat’s own words, I “give away cell phones every year.”

Labels: lurve layf

::: random thoughts by ruth ::: 4 comments

Thursday, March 01, 2007

I never thought that thinking in terms of two instead of one would be hard work.

I thought that when you find that someone you would want to spend the rest of your life with, you’d live happily ever after. But the past month made me strengthen my resolve to never let any of my offspring touch fairy tale books until they’re teenagers! All that nonsense about castles, crowns and gowns can be misleading.

Through Pat, I found out that I can get mad unreasonably. I would get angry on the smallest details like his status in Friendster or the way he explains about “us” to his friends. (Friendster is a shallow reason to fight about, period.)

Through him, I experienced firsthand how men can be so dense. When I want something from him I have to spell it out directly and s-l-o-w-l-y to him instead of sulking and waiting for him to pick up. It took me awhile before I realized this but when I did, everything became a whole lot easier. Like if I want him to follow whichever part of Manila I am, I should tell that to him directly. As a motivation to do as he’s told, I warn him that if he doesn’t follow, I’ll take great pleasure in strangling his neck until he stops breathing.

But fighting can be fun too. After every fight, he would be extra sweeter to me. He would bring chocolates (always with nuts) and act all apologetic. I could say anything and ask him to do anything for me. Hugs and kisses are extra sweeter after a fight.

Of course, there’s also the matter of me so used to leading a single life. I was so used to going to places without informing anyone or considering if that person might want to be with me today or not. I was so used to spending all my extra time going out with friends.

Not that I need to ask permission from him or anything like that. But the fact that I have to check to him first or inform him where I’d be spending the next few hours or so took a while getting used to. The fun thing about that is I also get the same privilege.

“That’s what couples do!” says all my friends who are in a relationship. People are already starting to ask me where Patrick is if I go to an event alone. I am one-half of a love team.

Strangely, I like it.

I like giving him the first bite of my dessert. I like waking up to his morning greetings and sleeping after his “goodnights.” I like going to new places and trying out new food with him. I like snuggling close to him in a movie house if we’re watching a horror flick or kissing him when it’s a romantic one. I like walking in the mall holding his hand as if I can’t walk on my own.

I like talking about our future family and planning where we would live for the next 50 years. I like talking about who would cook the food, clean the house and bathe the kids. I like talking about how many kids we would have some day. I talk about all these, and it doesn’t scare him one bit.

I’m starting to sound like I’m domesticated. But I like it.

Happy monthsary, bebe! I hope we last another month without killing each other.

Labels: lurve layf

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Tuesday, June 09, 2009

Sunday, June 07, 2009

Tuesday, August 05, 2008

Sunday, May 25, 2008

Wednesday, August 29, 2007

Thursday, May 10, 2007

Monday, April 02, 2007

Monday, March 12, 2007

Thursday, March 01, 2007