I don't know if I should write about this but here it goes...
I met Dean through Jake.
Dean was an interesting fella. Jake would describe him as cute. I would, too.
But Dean was the guy I dreaded to meet the most. Dreaded, not because he's a bad person or he has bad intentions (this point is debatable - but I tend to look at other people through rose-colored glasses). I dread his because he's the kind of guy who's going to test everything that I believed in and preached of about love, relationships and commitment.
It was also the darkest and most depressing two weeks of my life.
Let's just say that it all started when Jake and I decided that we wanted to "play". There comes a point in your relationship when you want to be experimental in the naughtier aspects of your relationship. We've been "playful" during the earlier part of our relationship, so we thought, been there, done that, what's there to lose? We didn't expect the outcome.
You'd think that Dean was a treat. He nicely packaged and you'd figure that he'll make a great playmate. So, we decided to invite him and he was willing. At the end of the night, we got intimate with him.
He's mostly a rag doll in bed. Really lousy. It really went on and on and on and I just lost my momentum. So we just finished it for the sake of finishing.
But something was bugging me after that. He was looking at me in a certain way. And he was more touchy-feely than required. And then he told me that I was cute. That's when the butterflies came. In my stomach that is.
We all had to leave after that. Jake had lessons, I had to go home and Dean had to go elsewhere. But I can't seem to leave that scene. I couldn't take my mind off it.
I called my best friend and told him about what I felt. He asked me: did he say anything to you? And I was like: Yes, he told me I was cute. And then he laughed. He said it was all too familiar. I asked what he meant and he explained that he knows, from our years of friendship, that I easily fall for people who like me and then I drop them like a hot potato. And I protested that I'm not like that said that I felt confused. He told me just to give myself time to think and feel the whole thing through.
I can't quantify the amount of guilt that I felt at that moment. I was asking, why am I feeling this? Truth be told, guilty but happy, and guilty that I'm happy. I thought that if I love Jake, I shouldn't feel this. And I love Jake. But I'm feeling this. So do I really love Jake? Because if I feel this, then I don't love him.
Jake has also been busy the whole week after that, with performance after performance and exam after exam. And I don't know if I should tell him or not. Because I believe that if there are issues in your relationship, the first person who should know about it is your partner because he's the only other person who's been in the relationship long enough to understand its dynamics. I learned that the hard when I talked to a friend about a decision that Jake and I both made as a couple and I heard comments that I think was uncalled for. After that, I made sure that I only talk to Jake about things that concern us and keep it between us two. There really isn't much, but it helps to have that thinking in place. I also refrained from giving unsolicited advice to my committed friends. If solicited, I give a disclaimer that it's ultimately their decision.
On a Thursday, I asked Jake to (please) sleepover because I really miss him and I need an assurance of my feelings for him. I was relieved when he alighted from the taxi. Butterflies. Yep, I really love him. But suddenly, I don't know how to act around him. I'm a really bad liar and I can't hide my true feelings. But Jake didn't say anything about it the whole night.
He left for school early the next morning and texted as soon as his first class finished. I just woke up. He asked how I was and I said I was okay, getting ready for the gym. I asked him how he was in reply. Disturbed, he said. because he felt that I was a bit distant the night before. And then and there I poured my heart out. Guilt eats into me in such a way that I'd spill the first chance I get. And I knew that this was going to be one of the most dreaded moments of my life.
I wanted to be honest with Jake because I don't want to hurt him. But in my being honest with Jake, I will hurt him in the process. But not being honest with him would eventually hurt him anyway. So there really is no way around not hurting him by lying or being honest. This is one of the moments when you can only wish that would exercise your best judgment. I went with my gut feel and told him everything.
Remember Dean? I felt something for him.
I still remember the exchange by heart (and kept it on my phone for a while). I don't want to publish it in detail but I can say that it was very civil, very mature. But by the end of the conversation, I was emotionally drained. It was the first time that I cried really hard in a very long time. There it was: my Catch-22. I asked for it and I got what I asked for. I was burnt by the guilt of what I said and the guilt of hurting Jake with the sole intention of not hurting him in a worse way.
I dragged myself to the office and later that day, Jake popped in online and said that he's giving me a week to go out with this guy and see if it's just a fleeting feeling and he assured me that he will only be a phone call away.
I think, more than anything, this cemented my resolve that yes, Jake is the one that I really love and he doesn't deserve this. But I also wanted to be fair to Dean and give it a proper closure. Dean also said that I should never leave Jake for him.
Dean and I did manage to go out once. That's when I found out that he's not as smart as I'd want a guy on a date to be. And add the fact the he was a rag doll in bed. By then, I knew that I was just felt something fleeting for him. My best friend doesn't even call it infatuation.
"Gratitude," he told me. "You're paying him a debt of gratitude because he called you pretty. At sobra kang tumanaw ng utang na loob."
Reality struck really sooner and now I felt sorry that I dragged someone else into my sick concept of gratitude, hurting the one I love along the way. I tried contacting Jake. I called him, he didn't answer; I texted him, he didn't reply. Finally, I caught him online and I asked him why he wouldn't talk to me.
He told me, "Babe, the one week was not only for you. It was for me, too. Besides, I don't know what to say or what to think." With that, I held my end of the bargain to be fair. It was the longest, and saddest week in my life.
Stupid, stupid, stupid Boyd.
No comments:
Post a Comment