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Posts Tagged ‘conversations’

  1. No such thing as loving in vain

    March 22, 2006 by A.

    Talked about the nature of Vanity in his car on the way to his house. It was fueled by this topic being discussed on the radio, about flirting while in a relationship, whether it was okay or not. As always, our conversation began with our disparate views on the topic, (me thinking it was normal and him saying it wasn’t), and eventually leading us to isms and other related things like perspective, religion, upbringing, then dichotomies, then strangely, patriarchy, colonization, and oppression.
    Our conversation outlasted the radio show.

    Then he asked me if I wanted to drink, in spite of the fact that we were both already very sleepy as we had only slept for two hours the night before because of… well, personal needs.
    Anyway, we were as heavy-eyed as we were light-hearted. Finished two pitchers of beer and spent the entire night sprawled on the carpet, holding each other with tipsy arms, laughing away to F.R.I.E.N.D.S. on DVD, and taking turns going to the restroom. I had always wanted this, to drink with him as if in celebration of our quotidian love, and letting him hold me as if I were the smallest tipsy creature crying over Joey and Chandler when they fought over a woman.

    We woke up at around 5 in the afternoon already. I am filled with the vanity of giving love.

    “And not a vanity is given in vain.” -Alexander Pope


  2. Penguin for your thoughts?

    March 12, 2006 by A.

    Another long, insightful conversation with him at Penguin Bar, Malate. As a matter of fact, we seemed to have created a world of our own again, where everone and everything around us seemed to have receded in the background (my apologies to Jenny, who celebrated her birthday, and the rest of the lit barkada). It makes me so happy to see him open himself to me, like watching a lion unfurl its glorious mass after an afternoon slumber. Talked about the nuances in initiation and response, gestures and passivity, love and fondness. He admitted things that were quite surprising to me as they were relieving. Like the real subtexts behind his responses to certain people if only for them not to get hurt, the inability to reject in the name of courtesy. Then he asked me about my honest take on such things. I answered, even with the risk of momentarily breaking him with stories of genuine generosity, the things I’ve done in the light of my I-want-to-make-love-to-the-world philosophy. And I fall in love over and over again with the fragility of his strength.

    He accuses me of being too understanding. That such an attitude makes me susceptible to others’ abuse, men and women alike.

    Perhaps I am. But it is what keeps me from thinking ill of others.

    Besides, without my understanding, I would have left long before we could have reached this state of pleasant transparency.

    I am happy now. He makes me so happy.