Malate Nights

Smoke from my cigar blurs my sight... I try to wave it away, then grab another drink. Bloody Mary....I think of what happened as my fingers trace the rim of the glass.

I have never smoked this much, never drank this much...thinking I could ever rid of our "rendezvous". I met you here at this bar, same spot where I am right now, hoping you yearn for me just as much as I do. We started with a casual chat, ordered a few drinks. You were surprised that I went there to try new things...that I was straight and had a wife. You teased me and told me anything can happen in Malate.

We were literally flirting during the course of the night. You invited me to your place. I declined but gave it a thought. When we were about to say our goodbyes at 2 am, I asked if we can just go to a nearby motel. You smiled and gave me a look that said, " I told you so."

What transpired from 2 am to 6 am kept playing on my mind...like a video that rewinds automatically. This is the first time I felt taken cared of...pampered and you followed my every whim. When we came together, I stifled a cry....a cry that could mean many things...that I have found the ultimate level of intimacy....that I might not be able to do this again with you. I don't know if you felt the same way but what convinced me that you felt it was the fact that you did not go to sleep after making love. You propped on your elbows and looked at me, traced the outlines of my face. You kept doing that the whole time until my phone rang. It was my wife wondering where the hell I've been. I thought well if it's hell, I would definitely return. You laughed at how fast I dressed and how scared I am of my wife. I told you that I was not scared of my wife...but scared of the fact that I might not be able to see you again.

We parted ways a few minutes after 600 am. All the time I drove home, I could not help but think of you and your soft kisses.....

So now, I'm back to where we began. Wondering if you'll ever be back...back in my arms.

Love at First Ride

I was on an MRT adventure. I have never experienced riding such but due to outrageous traffic in Edsa, I was forced to take the MRT.

Going up served as my warm-up exercise for that day...upon reaching the counter, I fished out for some loose change to come up with the exact fare to North Avenue. I felt like a first grader buying my lunch during the first day of school....and at the same time, felt proud that I am actually riding the MRT. Ok, there are 5 stops before North Avenue and I should remember that when everyone leaves the train, that's my destination.

I thought riding the MRT the first time was my high for the day. Little did I know that I would be yearning to ride this over and over again....

The train came and I looked around, trying hard not to spell out, "This is my first time here!". But I know if I continue looking at all directions, it would be written out all over my face. So I tried to flick my MRT card over and over again...thinking what's so spectacular with the MRT. So I got bored with waiting for the MRT to stop at my destination. 4 more stops......I began to lean on the steel bar and looked towards the end of that coach. My eyes suddenly lit up at the sight of you standing there. Your face seemed expressionless but the features were defined. A dash of sunlight traced the outlines of your face. I wondered how your face would feel if I touch it softly... and try to brush your hair aside.

You seemed to notice that I was blatantly staring at you... I felt flushed, embarrassed at what I had done. It should look redder as I feel you wondering why I was looking at you. Then I tried to visualize what if I come up to you and say hi or give you a smile? Again, I looked up, and suddenly saw you give me a glint of hope. Your eyes were smiling but your face tried to hide it.

A STOP sign came into my mind when I saw you prepare to depart for your destination--Quezon Avenue. No matter how much I want to scream and shout my name to you so that you'll remember me, I felt tongue-tied. I felt desperate at the thought that there are 6 MRT trains with 4 coaches in each, and probably 12 % of chances to be on the same train, with 10 feet distance between us.

I felt an opportunity was lost when the doors closed after 2 minutes. My neck felt strained from looking at you walking away from the train. But I closed my eyes. I never felt this way before and I never imagined that on my first ride, I would meet you. Could this be love at first ride?