02 14 19

Monkey,

Today is Valentine's Day. This is our second Valentine's together as a couple; albeit also the second Valentine's that we haven't been able to spend together. Today I have a mixed feeling: a part of me feels a bit lonely because of your absence; but a part of me is happy because I know you're there, and that you love me. I've gotten used to the fact that we've been apart for almost a month now, but the longingness is still unbearable. You absence renders me incomplete. It feels as though that the now empty spaces beside me you used to occupy have now become a void. Such empty spaces that only you could ever fill. 

It's lonely out here, alright. But I try to get by in my own ways. Today, to pacify this loneliness, I wore the red shirt Yeng gave you on our graduation. Funny because it fits me, perhaps it's the Universe transpiring its magic to alleviate my feelings even just for today. And somehow, though I am aware it might sound crazy, I feel you're with me everywhere I go today. I feel comforted by you, and even if it's craziness, I wouldn't have it any other way.

Today is Valentine's Day. I would again parry the looming dread of your absence, like how I fight that feeling everyday. But I hope that I would be allowed to have a wish today because my Valentine isn't with me. And I wish that for the next Valentines that would come in our lifetimes,  we wouldn't have to spend it apart anymore. 

I love you and I miss you so much.

Your forever Valentine,

Babi

02 10 19

Monkey,

The past few days had been arduous. I was down with fever, colds, and cough. It was the hardest since you left because you weren't here to take care of me. You weren't here, my human blanket, to shield me from the cold nights. You weren't here to wake me up in the middle of the night for my meds. But of course, we had to make ends meet with our time apart. Despite you not being here physically, you were there virtually. You reminded me constantly of my meds, the regular drinking of water, and to take things slow at work so I wouldn't exhaust myself too much. At night, you would watch me sleep, and that was good enough for me. Knowing that I am being watched made me feel warm, safe, and comforted.

Those were very little gestures, but those littlest gestures are one of the many reasons why you have my heart in your hands, why my world revolves around you and Phen and our future. Those very little gestures make my heart grow fonder together with your absence. I know this absence, albeit bittersweet is only temporary, and that someday we will be together again, forever. And I will keep waiting until that time comes.

Today we celebrate our 16th month as a couple. Wow, 16 months of love. Although our first few months were shaky and rough, we still made it this far. Because we both choose to hold on, because we both choose to fight for our love, to trust our love for each other.

So I am writing this to tell you this, that you can mark my word, that I will always fight for you, for our love, and I will always fight for my love for you. I will never give up on you no matter how hard it gets, and I hope will do the same no matter what.

I love you so, so much it makes my heart giddy all the time.
I miss you so much my heart longs for you every second.
Please come home soon.

Cheers to our 16th and to our forever,
Babi

02 04 19

Monkey,

Last weekend, I went home to Pampanga. It was my first time to go there by myself. I remember the night we first slept together, you invited me to your despidida in Pampanga, to which I declined because I wasn't sure that time where our relationship was headed to. Also because I was shy and I did not know anyone in there yet. It was a family affair, and I felt like it was too early to immerse in your family.

I also remember the first time you brought me home, I was with Mom and Jeng. That was the first night I saw you drunk and mouthy. I saw a different side of you, and to be honest, I never liked that side of you. But of course, I couldn't blame you, you had too many baggage that you were easy to trigger; you had a humongous trust issue with all the betrayal you've been through. That same night, I left you drunk downstairs, because I didn't know how to pacify you. But one thing is for sure, I wanted to help you carry your baggages. That night, I left you downstairs, because I love you too much that it pains me to see you like that. But that same night, I promised myself that I will help you rid all the anger in your heart. And here we are now, a year and three months together. And every day, I fall in love with you.

Since then, we travelled back and forth Pampanga and Malabon. It became a routine that it almost didn't feel like travelling—it felt just like being together in a dance. We did dance, though—we always, always had to make sure that there were chips for you in the bus, and that I would have Alis or Monkey with me, so that I could sleep as we travel. We would share each other's chips and sneak kisses in between. At times, I would sleep on your shoulder as we held each other's hands. It became so routinary that I became so comfortable and used to it.

So last weekend, when I went home to Pampanga, it felt so weird to get into a bus and travel without you in it. I wasn't able to sleep back and forth, and I had no appetite. I just sat there, feeling uneasy and uncomfortable. I became so used to our routine, to our dance. And it feels so sad to dance alone.

Missing you so much,

Babi

01 30 19

Monkey,

Today was just like most of the days that had passed. We had fun, sweet moments like we used to on a regular basis. Except the other night when you thought that I was cheating on you, that I was having sex with someone else when in reality I was asleep. You were vile with your words, and I tried not to breakdown and succumb to depression. Perhaps I brought this to myself, for wronging you at the start of our relationship, before being not a good enough boyfriend. So I remained calm while you continue to crush me, because I did not want to fight with you. Not on our second week apart, not ever if we could avoid it.

I did not fight back because I understand you, that you have wounds to heal and perhaps it might take some more time. But please allow me to be candid, that whenever that happens, I see a dark cloud hovering above me, draining all my hopes and aspirations away. Every day I feel very inspired because of you, because you bring out the best in me; because you make me feel loved constantly; because you light the fire in me, but you also put out that fire when you make me feel that way. I feel hopeless and incapable of change, that I will always be a slut in your eyes. It feels as though nothing I ever do would make up for all the wrong things I did and all the shortcomings I committed.

But I accept that, because perhaps that is the consequence of my actions. I just hope that there will come a day when you no longer see me that way, that all you ever acknowledge is the hard work and willingness I put into changing myself. And I am willing to work hard for that because I want to be with you. I want to be your lifelong husband—and you, mine. I want to have a family with you and Phen. So I hope you believe me whenever I say that all that is in my mind right now is having a great future with you and Phen in it. Because everything I do right now is just for the three of us, for our family, for our home, and for our happiness and the great memories we would have with each other and our families. I love you so much, so much that saying I love you many times a day just does not suffice, because the feelings I have for you are too strong. And I thank you for that because I have never loved like this before, and I never thought that this intensity of love is not possible. It makes me feel alive more than ever. And I hope that I give the same inspiration and fire to you in the same way.

I hope we could be together soon so we could start our family. And I hope that someday you will look at me as a changed person, and that we could put my dirty past behind us.

I hope that someday I will be good enough for you.

Full of love and hope,

Babi

01 24 19

Monkey,

I.
Today after dinner, I watered the plants you took care of for ten months. I was sitting at the make-shift bench where we often sit when we go for our yosi and coffee breaks. I was sitting there in contemplation, thinking about you, tracing your silhouette as I imagine you're there. I inhaled slowly and carefully, savoring the moment--each laughing and arguing moments-- reminiscing the times we've frequented the spot and the memories we've made as we inhaled and exhaled the cigarette away.

It was melancholic. What used to be a jamming spot that hosted a lot of our memories now felt so quiet and empty, for it only echoes in memory. I deeply wondered when the next session would be, because it hasn't been a week since you left, so it's normal that we haven't plan your return yet. But still, I kept wondering. Because all I could ever do right now is miss you, and wait for you, and perpetually wonder about your return--stuck in incessant reruns. So I smoke a stick of cigarette carefully, hoping the each and every puff brings me closer to you.

II.
The melancholy that I was feeling earlier was replaced extreme glee brought about by a good news. The talk you had with Phen was heartwarming, moving and touching. I know you're filled with joy and have had a sigh of relief after your talk. And I'm happy to know you're happy. I am proud of you for being so brave and honest to him, and I am equally happy that at such a young age he has a very open mind and very big heart. You've raised him well. You're a good person through and through--I couldn't ask for more. I am eternally thankful that the Universe has brought us to each other.


Loving you so much,
Babi.

01 23 19

Monkey,

As I was writing this, I was watching you bathe in your bathroom. Yesterday, I wasn't as emotional as the first two days, but seeing you naked now, your wholeness, your bare skin wrapped against your muscles, the small amount of fat in your belly that sometimes wiggled when you move; your hairy, golden-brown skin that is freckled with moles—I can’t help but be emotional. I long for your body that keeps me warm at night, for your touch that makes me feel both safe and electrified.

Seeing you scrubbing, shampooing yourself tears me up. Because the most I could do was look at you in the video and touch your body virtually. It pains me that I no longer get to run my hands across your skin, your beard, your lips, your nose, your hair; and even the tiny hair of the mole on your left shoulder, your hairy chest and rock-hard nipples, your tender belly, the trail of hair underneath your navel, and your cleanly-shaved penis and your pair of dangling potatoes which, now that I have thought of it, probably are the only parts of your body that you religiously maintain hair-free.I sorely miss getting in the shower with you. How we would goof around every time, how we soap and shampoo each other from head to toes, how we would take turns in taking a dump while we smoke before we shower; how you would always, always surprise me with the blast of the cold water from the shower head and how I would scream because of it, how I would dance after and how we would laugh about our silliness, how we would kiss and say I love you at each other, and how it would sometimes lead us to making love in the bathroom. It has become our bathing ritual. And no mornings feel right without it.

No mornings would ever feel right waking up into without you beside me.


Longing for you,
Babi

01 22 19

Monkey,

Today marks your 24 hours back there; almost 48 hours ago since we've been physically together. I was supposed to put up this blog last night, but I got caught up with our video call with the kids. I put this up with the hope to cope up with the sadness I am in; to put this loneliness into writing, to write about you, because you and this moment need to be cherished and remembered because it's a first. I am writing down this moment because it is about my longing for you, and you deserve to be written because your soul is so beautiful and homely. But most importantly, because I have never ever loved anyone as much and as hard as this before.

"It feels like a dream. A sad, sad dream," says my Facebook status on January 20 2019, 5:13pm at NAIA Terminal 1.  

"Madaling natatanggap ng isip ang paglisan ng ating minamahal. Sapagkat tanging ang puso at kaluluwa lamang ang nakararamdam ng pangungulila." 18 hours ago on Facebook. 

When I got home from the airport that night, I went to our room after a really quick dinner. The moment I opened the door, what welcomed me are the stuff you left that couldn't fit in your luggage, scattered in a hazy mess; the monkey pillow-blanket we call "Monkey", which you left so that you'd have a proxy, unzipped from its tidiness on our love bed; and the purple tank top with a neon green Palawan print on it—the last thing you wore before you changed into your travel clothes.

Before I could enter and settle in our room, I burst into tears. Because it hit me real hard—that  you are no longer here sank deeper, and it felt so lonely that all I could do was cry and cry my poor heart out. I couldn't stop crying, so I cried while I tidy up our room a bit. I dressed the pillow you sleep on with the purple Palawantank top that you left, so that I could hug it every night and day. So that I would feel close to you, so that I could pretend you're still beside me—because it still has your smell in it. (I just hope I don't inhale the scent away, so that I wouldn't feel you're getting farther away from me.

At 11:30pm, you called me from your layover in Bangkok. My laptop camera wasn't working, so I felt sorry for you because you couldn't see me. But perhaps it was for the better so that it wouldn't add up to the burden of your departure. When I saw you in the video call, I went crying again; I cried like a child. You cried too, perhaps because you couldn't see me crying. But only if you did, perhaps you would have laughed, like you used to at so many times.

That first night was extremely hard for me. Your flight took off at around 8pm, and despite the physical exhaustion we've been through the previous days, I had trouble sleeping. And in that series of intermittent sleep, I would dream of you; and in every waking moment I would cry because it would dawn on me that I'd rather be in a dream than to be in those waking moments. Because in my dreams, you were there—you were there and I had you with me there.

Whenever I woke up every hour or so, I would ask you to hug me to keep we warm in my sleep, or to kiss me half-asleep just because; I would wake up every hour or so, so that I could get a better sleeping position, asking you to stretch your right arm so that I could sleep in it, which you ever so willingly did so. But that night was extremely hard for me, because no matter how hard I asked and begged for all these, you weren't there beside me. It was, unequivocally, the coldest and loneliest night in the past ten months.

The following day I woke up crying, because you were in my dreams again. You told me to wake up for work, and that if I didn't you would leave me. So I cried, asking you not to leave, and that's how I woke up crying. And realizing that you already left despite me waking up, I cried even harder. Waking up with you not beside me is so lonely; it's so fatal.

That day went by with me just lying on the sofa, waiting for your updates. Bawling my eyes out. Mom didn't cook anything and I had the whole house to myself. All I had that day was instant noodles because I had no appetite for anything. I only ate because you made me promise to take care of myself when you're back there, so I'm trying to keep that promise.

Today, January 22, I went to work. You woke me up at 4:30am, and it was all I needed to get my day going—your voice was beautiful and comforting. It was home. So I did my usual routine, plus the routine you used to do for me—I packed my own lunch. Now I'm at work, trying to ease myself in on my routine. But all I could think about was you. Like always, I would cry. This time silently and sneakily in the Editing Room if I can't stop it. Usually, at this time of the day at work, I would already start thinking about coming home to you. I would ask you if would pick me up at work or what were you cooking for dinner. I am so used to the thought of coming home to your cooking, to your kisses, to your hugs, to our late night coffee and yosi sessions, to our pre-sleep passionate sex. I was so used to the routine of coming home with you in it.

Please, please come home soon. :'(

Undying love,

Babi