Going back to the field

I've always been a hopeless romantic. Ever since I can remember, I know that I always dream of finding my Mr. Right. That someone who I know will be able to rescue me from the constant muck of loneliness where I pretty much find myself in. I have the same dream with a lot of guys I've prayed to God to take the role.

And over and over again I failed.

At first, I thought my last relationship was really it. For the first time in my life, I admitted to someone else that I'm gay. For the first time in my life, I went out and decided to dive head first to a same-sex relationship. It never was easy. Both of us were not ready to come out. So we always hid ourselves from everyone we knew. Well, except from a very few friends we trust.

I was willing to fight them all. I was willing to promise forever. And I did. The honeymoon stage was pretty awesome. We talk. We listen. We go out. We are generally happy. We even had small fights which serve as a sort of reality check.

Then months passed. I found myself getting annoyed at the expression he frequently wears on his face whenever he disapproves of something. I hated how he seemed to find something wrong in about everything. I thought that when you love someone, you have to work things through. Talk. Talk a lot. And we somehow got through these problems. But who am I kidding? At the back of my mind I know that we never really resolved anything.

Issues piled up. I found myself slowly dreaming of another possible relationship. The picture I've pasted on my knight's face started to peel away. And when I close my eyes, I have the same dream but this time, the faceless actor returned.

Last night, we argued. I was overly passionate about something. I was talking about my dreams. He doesn't seem interested. So I've asked him why? He said that he find my talk boring. That's when I realized that our relationship has to stop. Maybe we went too fast. Maybe we needed to be friends first. That's why I broke up with him.

I may be talking about boring stuff. Maybe that's precisely the problem. I need to find someone who is interested in what I'm passionate about.

And now I'm back in the field. I'm not sure if I'll ever get my dream to come true. But there is still this tiny hope that one day I won't be alone and I'll find him.

Of Emptiness

Emptiness. The hope that there is something out there better than what you have. The thought that in a day, month or year from now, You will finally see what you're looking for. Sometimes, a person has already everything he needs. What he doesn't realize is that he's blind to what he has. But what if what you have now is not really what you need?

Old Man in the Jeep

An old man sat beside me in the jeep on my way home from work. It is really hard not to take notice of him. Try as I may to avoid looking at him because I know that it's rude but I can't help it.

As the vehicle started moving, I often catch other passengers glancing at him too. It is not really that unusual to be with an old person in a public vehicle. But there is something different about this guy. It's like he is trying to live his life. Old as he is, he's trying to make the most out of it. And unlike other people his age you pass by on the street, he is alone. No one's there to help him get up the jeep or help him walk in the street or carry the things he bought.

The sight of his face, his aged skin, the evidence of the decades that he has been through made me think of two major things: financial stability and companionship.

I really dread the time when I get old. I don't know what will happen to me. I don't know if I'll be able to get rich. I can't imagine myself having to ride jam-packed vehicles just because it's the only thing I can afford. I don't want to live in a shabby apartment because I want to, at least, live the rest of my days somewhere beautiful. I want to be able to eat at restaurants I like. Go to places where I want to vacation. I don't want to die poor.

But money is just one thing I'm worrying about. The other big one is of course -- living alone.

Since I'm gay, I can't very well much expect to have a family of my own. Children who will take care of me. A husband/wife whom I will spend my remaining days with. Grandchildren whom I will pamper and shower with love.

So yeah. I'm scared to grow old. For good reasons. And looking at that old man, made me pray to God that if ever I'll leave alone or suffer a terrible disease when I grow old, I just hope that God will be more compassionate.

Life is precious. But I'm scared of poverty and loneliness. Maybe in time my opinions will change. Or maybe it won't. But one thing's for sure, the sight of the old man got me thinking.