After Thoughts

Why is it that just thinking of you makes me relieved?

Hahaha. Perhaps I should give you a codename… hmmm… aspirin. Too 1980’s! :p

My day of isolation as my gift to self still hasn’t occurred. I got sick on the eve of my birthday and though the doctor told me NOT to take any alcohol until my antibiotics are done. What the hell? I WANT to go out.

I deserve some getaway from the office and the usual people I am with I wanted to go out and have a breather, even for just a few hours. Was planning for sometime to go out alone, by myself in a bar or coffee shop… perhaps I was never brought up with such ideology of that sense of adventure. I asked a few of your new officemates that seemed promising and sensible enough to talk to and be with to join me last Friday. Initial plan was dinner, no beers but when you said you’ll join us… I hailed for beer!

Work is still the topic. People they hate in your office. These newbies seemed to share the same sentiments with you. Funny how *Pancho dishes the other team. As you’ve said, thanks to that team we won’t have any topic to talk about over beer.

I wonder if you talk about me when I’m not around…

I lost count on how many beers I took. Well, I intentionally didn’t count it. Drank it directly from the bottle. I find it weird that it tasted different drinking that way than from a glass with ice. It was faster to finish drinking from the bottle.

Or was it, just because I was not talking much?

We parted ways from the group a little past midnight––quite early to end the night, I thought. I was ready to spent a little more time alone in a coffee shop to let the alcohol die down first. But you seemed to get the cue. You joined me for a couple or more hours.

I am happy then. Very.

You have this way of making people open up and talk. It was your skill, no! A talent if I may say so. You shared your thoughts on a new disturbance I am having again in regards to my work and your colleagues.

It seemed that I don’t need to say it anymore. You always knew what is bothering. I’m glad you knew me somehow but at the same time I am a bit in doubt of myself. Am I too transparent that you see through me that easy? And that you knew that I like you. I wish you’re not taking advantage of that. And I hope you are not like that to me because you’re not drunk, I can tell but you still have the influence of beer. You admittedly told me that you are not that talkative if you didn’t have a drink or two.

I sensed sincerity on your voice. In every word you say, you mean it. I hope I am right this time.

Shocks! I am staring at you too much, don’t I? Sorry *blushing*

I will be very careful. I’ll take you’re advise. I try to open this up with Myles but he seems not into it. I mean, I too have a little hesitation of telling him details of what we are talking about. I am torn with work and personal intentions. Am I making sense here? Geesh…

Honestly, I am a little confused. I am in doubt, that’s why I am a bit reserve and quiet. I don’t know if you are talking to me as if psyching me, in who’s favor? Mine or yours? I am a doubtful person specially to those men that I like or sensed that I do like them.

I don’t want to be their toy. I don’t want to be your toy for power trip.

I just wish next time we have a chance of going out like that, just the two of us we won’t be talking about work anymore. Perhaps that’s one reason for me to know you more. I know, we are both somehow testing the grounds. I do like you. Just in this entry how may times have I told you that? Hahaha!

Still finishing my meds by the way.

Greetings

Last hours of supposedly my day was spent with you and a couple more of your female friends, my new friends including *Anne. It’s the eve of your birthday, too. It was unexpected for you guys but somehow it was preempted… hahaha. I was gathering courage actually.

Ü

I thought that my day would end without anything making me happy. Good thing you guys are available last night. All are tired after our weekly meeting. Perhaps it WAS meant to be my day, my night. But some people just know how to ruin it… intentional or not.

You saw how my mood changed. They knew. You knew.

Fuck.

Happy birthday.

Hope your day is much happier than mine.

Preparation

It’s a holiday. I think it’s the last day of Ramadan that’s why GMA (our dear president) called it a holiday. Rubbing elbows with our brother Muslims… election is oh so near. I can smell it, the stinky air.

I called in sick yesterday. So now, Joseph declared it a holiday too. We are closed shop and he said I better rest it off –– my psychosomatic illness as Josie*, my gay friend told me I am experiencing.

Hmp.

Rest. Yeah right? I am worrying my butt off now on what the hell to present tomorrow. Your bosses can’t make up their minds on the floor display to produce. I like doing boxes and other math-construction types like those but my goodness!!! I don’t guess here?!!? I calculate… theorize and test. I am knocking my brains out in every box or shelves I design.

I make sure that what might look like a “theory” could be produced feasibly. I don’t design for merely showing off… I design because it’s workable! When I am asked can I make a mockup out of it… my answer it always be a clear Y-E-S.

Darn.

And I am recuperating and tomorrow is my birthday. My f*cking 29th birthday!

Thank you for reminding me.

Some preparation… prep for my birthday or the presentation? F*ck! Why asked it’s obviously for the latter one.

Happy birthday to me.

Confirmation

My week is hell.

You’re too busy and engrossed with the new “plan” you have. By the way, congratulations. You are now directly under your REAL boss wings and off the neck of that pesky distributing manager of yours.

My only consolation perhaps is when I had the nerve (partial if I may say so) to ask my boss-friend that happened to be your friend too if it’s really off-limits to go out with you… mean go out for a chat or coffee or a drink or two. He said no.

No.

Ü

Of all people you and your boss are on our side. Kakampi.

My mere consolation.

I don’t really feel well. Think I am going to be sick. Really sick.

Ganged Up

It’s Tuesday. We came from your office. Like previous meetings, my energy was drained yet I am fulfilled ‘cause I get to see you somehow.

But not today.

You texted you wanted to have lunch with us. I guess it’s because you wanted to share that idea you told me over YM and last Saturday that I thought you were just fooling around. Sorry. I don’t really know you that well.

The morning agenda was moved to passed lunch time. Your big boss wasn’t there so the meeting was preceeded by the other boss, the wife. It was undeniably true that these past few days, there had been some rough times between your company and ours. To cut it short, we were ganged up. But most of the pressure was driven to Stephanie*. All are pissed. Though Joseph* and I seemed to calmly handled it. We didn’t like how the “wife’s” tone sounded.

What can we do… we are just merely your suppliers… some outsiders!

But the most irritating of all is why the hell it was brought up on the very first day our new member was introduced? It was Denise* first time to join the team in your meeting.

Great. Just great.

Well… damage control. Charge all to experience.

Again.

The Meeting

Yesterday morning I declared it a day off. A day which I’d do what I wanted and perhaps would end up a day by myself. I did some errands and favors (for my VBF, of course) passed by our university, I felt good walking under the shades of huge trees, rode the Ikot jeep, sit (and talked to God) at the chapel. Been years since I last did that. Years after college. Only half the day passed, I am in a cab, off to a mall to checkout their book selection. I am on a research for this shelf display I am to figure out for one of your boss-friend’s prime product. I decided to text your female friends and you of course if anyone is up for coffee or something. I made the decision where to eat and what time. Two said yes… you and another female friend declined.

Oh. (Sigh.)

You said you’d pass meeting up for you have a basketball game.

Beers and plates of baked scallops will make me happy then. I have been craving for scallops for weeks and now is MY chance.

My bookstore visit was half disappointing. No “book” on modular thingy but I got Shel Silverstein’s The Missing Piece and The Missing Piece Meets The Big O. I bought the books. Expensive. But it’s self-satisfaction. I love the stories. Simple. And I can relate to it. I was planning to give you one but come to think of it…

1.) You might not get it… not that I find you stupid (I won’t like you if you ARE, hello?) there might be a big question mark on your forehead once you tore up the wrapper.

2.) I might be too sneaky on your personal life… I definitely don’t want you to think I am a pakialamera.

3.) And you might just see it weird, you being a male creature… me giving me you a children’s book.

So it’d just keep it to myself. My collection.

Your female friends love it though. They could relate to the books. Females eh. Unlike you.

Jose (my VBF) once said… am I sure that you go for women and not men. I replied immediately and in a bit of an angry tone… OF COURSE! What made him think you’re gay? You haven’t met. Is he jealous?

Nah.

Imagine: 2 of your female friends plus me… in a resto mid-afternoon eating and chatting. We kept on asking what time is it, not because we are bored but we are hoping that the sun is down so we can drink beer!

Hahaha.

But honestly, I was happy when you texted and asking where we are Ü Really. I don’t know if Anne* feels that I am so concern about you. And now I am confused whether it was true that Tina* really liked you are it’s all just gossips.

I thought I’d be going home early yesterday. I am a bit worried thinking that my folks might be worried I’m out late again and my phone is almost drained. But who cares? As long as you’re coming Ü Tina left and Anne stayed. We really don’t know where to go while we are waiting for you to get out of your boss-friend’s company. Like our previous meetings, we can’t let both our boss-friends to know. With your advice, I did tell my boss-friend who happened to be your friend too of our meetings. But see what it resulted?

Though I am not really sure if they really forbid it. I want it to come from him. I don’t know if he knew that you are some kind of special to me. He’s male too. Guys are most of the time insensitive or should I say if it didn’t matter or concerns you, ignorance covers you up?

There was some sort of street party in the area we are hanging out. Too bad that kind of street party wasn’t let’s just say “attractive”? I think the local government sponsored it so as expected the crowd was quite masa.

Anne wanted to help me out with the gondola. I wasn’t really into working on it but she insisted. She likes doing it too, she said. I like doing such stuff too, you know that. It’s just that I need time to think it over. We were walking in circles while chatting personal opinions and a bit of our lives. We really have no plans on where to go or how to get there. But it was fun… to just be there and say “bahala na”. With all the walking and chatting we found a near coffee place and I found a folder (board) and some notebook sheets in my bag which we used in figuring out the initial structure of the gondola while we kill time.

Kill time… we really have no plans ahead. We have no idea if you are still coming or not. I turned off my phone to save its last juice before I go home and to remove a bit stress in me that I’m sure my folks will keep on texting me inquiring where in hell their daughter is. I still feel awkward being around or with you and your females friends and yet I long to be with you.

Eiw. Mushy…

Anyway, the wait (and the walking in circles) paid of when Anne and I figured out the structure and the die cut of the stackable gondola Ü Just a few adjustments and implementation of measurements, we are good to go. I was shy to ask Anne to check if you replied whether you’re still coming or already gone home. Half of me wished I’m heading for home and the other half, wishing you’re with us.

Then you came.

You looked different with you’re outfit: the cargo shorts, big, loose shirts and is that you’re soccer shoes? Anne blurted it out, obviously noticed it too. Me, I just appreciated you’re presence and smiled. I am happy… somehow.

It was late. Surely, I’ll be receiving a word or two from my dad or my mom.

I stayed. You came. But still we talked about work. Anne was looking and commented why I am suddenly “sad”. Huh? Perhaps she thought I am sad because I suddenly became quiet. I have nothing to say. I feel there’s an awkward air around the 3 of us. I like it when you talk and I just listen.

I only had 1 beer and that was hours ago. But I am satisfied. I don’t need to be drunk to talk or so just to see you.

Persistence and my VBF

It’s me again.

It’s already morning (officially). I just came in from seeing you and Anne*.

Despite the fact that I felt my boss-friend and/or a colleague forbids me to see you the thought of being with you again made me smile. And make me hope that we’d really would.

I asked you last Friday (the 13th) over YM if you’d like to go out.

You said you already had plans…

Shocks.

I thought so. That is what I’m afraid of.

Earlier that day. My VBF or virtual boyfriend and I are talking over YM too. He’s my “virtual” boyfriend not because we haven’t seen each other. It’s just that we knew we couldn’t be officially committed, as in a relationship. He’s gay. It just so happened that we are college’s buddies and he introduces me to his family and friends as his VGF (virtual girlfriend) and proclaiming that if he’s not gay he could have courted me and I could have been his girlfriend. At first I am confused whether it was an insult to me because I thought he pities me that why he said that but come to think of it, gay men has high standards in terms of beauty and if they like you, they really like you.

Can you imagine a little me clapping upon realizing that?

Well, to cut it short, he (my VBF) tells me not to bother thinking that about the “hindrance”. If I really like you, I should tell you straight front.

Gulp. Very gay principle… and I admire them for that!

Tell you right in the face? You know why I can’t, right? Me girl, you boy? (Why am I talking bedrock here!?)

Aside from the fact that I won’t be bothering him about you, his reason is for me to get it over with. Tell you how I really feel and demand an answer right then and there. If you like me too well and good, perhaps time for you to move. If you don’t, I should drop you andmove on.

I can’t get to be with you ALONE and he wants me to profess my feelings? Well, I did remember one Saturday we went to this shopping mall because I asked you if I can come along.

I considered that move (asking) a great deal for me. Whew!

I paid the cab. You paid for the food. Can that be considered a date despite the fact that all we talk about is work… and… ah, work?

While on my way home after that meeting, it made me think. And decided to drop that thought of you and me.

But you kept on popping up! Because you are sooooo cute when you smile and laugh!

As one song tells me…

There’s a fine, fine line between a lover and a friend.
There’s a fine, fine line between reality and pretend….
There’s a fine, fine line between a fairytale and a lie…
There’s a fine, fine line between you’re wonderful and goodbye.
I guess if someone doesn’t love you back it isn’t such a crime.
BUT there’s a fine, fine line between love and a waste of your time.

Ok. Half of me tells to drop you… but the other half says not to.

The Introduction

Hi.

Let me start writing to you today, these early hours of Friday that happened to fall on the 13th.

Some luck it would be.

Hmmm… I don’t know what came to me that made me do this (again). As if I am writing on a diary. As if talking to you. But actually I am talking just to myself. I won’t have the courage to tell all of these in front of you of course. Though you won’t deny that I tried approaching you, to get to know you beyond the client-consultant relationship we initially have.

Yup. There it goes. We met because of a common friend you and I have (and still have at the moment) back in college. You claimed you knew him earlier than I do. But I don’t think so. Either I knew him first of we knew him at the same time, though on two different times… or worlds.

How do I start…

I thought doing this would clear my mind (and my heart) of what I do really think about you. Weird but it might work. It’s like confessing and professing. I have this thing that when people get to know what I like or want, my longing for that thing (or even person) fades away. Really. Of course, who would be stupid enough to shout to the world what I THINK I am feeling for you right now. It’s just that I may be wrong… just like those before you.

I am too old to make mistakes. But I am also afraid that I am missing something.

I am getting another year older in a few days time… and so do you.

I was fascinated that we were born under the same stars almost at the same time. I wonder if we share the same fate in life…

Nah. I find yours better than mine. But we are sort of, have some similarities. Like for one, we both fond of kids…

We LOVE our nieces and nephews.

When you mentioned you miss playing with your nephew/niece (I’m not sure which one you have. You said pamangkin which is a generic terminology in our language)… I knew you’d be different.

Which now, I am hating you for letting me know that :(

Who is Mr. Anonymous?

Today, I am starting a new blog. It isn’t the blog that I once planed while taking a shower. That vicious blog…

I lost those thoughts.

Now, on the eve of my 29th birthday, I decided to post the letters I write for Mr. Anonymous. Who happens to be someone special (at the moment) to me. But lately, it’s fading… (hopefully)

I think I should be happy if it’s happening that way.

It was originally titled Letters to Mr. B (who’ll never read this anyway) but come to think of it, as I mentioned it earlier… my fetish to Mr. B seemed fading.

So I dedicate the this blog to Mr. Anonymous initially to Mr. B who’s mysteriousness appears to be striking to me and to the future Mr. or Ms. anonymous who’ll signify those people I cannot directly relay to.