Wednesday, January 05, 2005

When someone steals MY story, I shall not react. The editors know that I stumbled at that story first and I submitted it first. That’s enough.

He said I’m not the one who will look stupid anyway.

I am a class act, so I will not do anything. Confrontation solves nothing. It’s a waste of time and energy. Despite being pissed beyond words, I will shut up because it’s not worth it.

He said I should laugh it off. If I could, I would.

I am a class act so even when I want to hit someone in the head, I will not do that. I am emotional right now and I might do something that I might gravely regret later.

Besides, his advice never failed me before. During the times when I feel like I’m about to give up, he was the one who took my hand and urged me to go on. He celebrated with me for my first page one story, my first banner story and the first story that I was really proud of.

In fact, he was the only one who understood what I was going through because he was experiencing the same thing. So, even when I want to cry because I found myself in a situation where I’m hopeless and helpless, I won’t

For him, I will do a classic act of passiveness and hopefully others will see it as class act too.

Same good friend told me to cool my head off by talking/writing about Saturday Boss’ Christmas gift. So I will.

The gift came a wee bit too late, for the Christmas season anyways. Besides knowing his track record of non gift-giving for the Holidays or any other occasion for that matter, it meant a lot.

He gave me a poetry audio album by Filipino poets. I loved it… not only because it came from him but because I do appreciate poetry. I just don’t talk about it a lot because it’s a personal experience for me.

I never wanted to argue about the meaning of any poetry because it depends on how the person takes it.

Back to SB… He told me on New Year ’s Day that he could never wear my gift to him in my face (bummer!). But he did promise to take it out when he’s depressed to cheer him up.

I should have stopped there, but nooooh. I couldn’t help but make him aware how much I adore him. I couldn’t help but tell him that I never knew that a person like him could ever get depressed. I even volunteered to send my personal clowns to him so they could cheer him up.

To which he replied, “personal clowns? Ikaw na lang.”

And in the true Saturday Boss fashion, his statements left me wondering whether he meant that I had the capacity to cheer him up or that I am a clown.

Of course, I prefer to believe the former. Hehehe, siyempre.

This Christmas, I gave him a red shirt with the words “Nothing beats single and sexy” written in the front and “…says me” at the back.

Well, he did say them! Oh yes he did!

This good friend is the greatest love of my life that will never be.

It will not prosper into anything beyond friendship. When we were in college he had been my protector on several occasions. Like two guilty lovers having an illicit affair, we would hold our heart to heart discussions in the humanities section of our library.

In the seclusion of rows and rows of books, we gossiped about our classmates, our idiotic teachers and even our barkadas. There, we were safe from prying eyes of our friends and quietly ate candies. We never, however, talked about his love affairs. It was messy and I just get jealous.

Most of the time, he would undergo the same thing that I was going through. He would know how painful, discouraging and frustrating I find life. He sees the same beauty in the world that I do. We would even hate the same politicians.

He’s almost my soulmate but he’s not gay.