Sweet Revenge

I just saw him. Sitting like an old blob at the lobby of this high-end mall a block away from my office. This guy was a classmate back in the college. Well, he was in most of my classes. For whatever lame reason he is so fit to be taking Sociology. He'd usually sit at the back of the enthusiastic bunch and sometimes near the windows where he would sit and gaze at nowhere. He was the school jock who walked tall, talked like nobody's there and deliberately exuded a sense of superiority over the rural beings in this acclaimed university. My friend who sat beside me asked him a question and he just walked passed us like we were cockroaches hanging from the ceiling. Now, 15 years later, maybe he turned out to be that successful executive of a multinational bank driving a flashy beamer. Who cares? He has become the closest relative Jabba the Hut about to wait for Han Solo's execution. Abnormal abdominal bloating. Flat warts the size of 7 continents. I know, this is too much. But the point of all these is... You'll never know what the future brings, so be nice to your classmates? Be a nice chap for you may someday turn out to be a creature from Star Wars.

The 11th and 10th Commandments

While waiting at a carwash/cafe I came across a magazine article by Thelma Sioson San Juan about the lesser known commandments (to women) that men abide to. The 11th commandment, Thou Shall Not Get Caught. The 12th, If Caught Thou Shall Deny Everything. It gave out a cryptic smile and a devilish smirk. It almost reaffirmed everything I stand for and finally somebody who put all the things I wanted to say but probably too scared to admit, in the right perspective.

She recalled a woman friend's story about her boyfriend's denial when she found a picture with the guy and her ex. She confronted him and every woman knows what happened next.
A man avoids the confrontation scene like plague. No man wants everything spelled out to him in full color and full detail. That your investigations, leads and findings are almost too precise coming close to the big T. Truth.

The man always avoid reviving old unresolved issues. Like the past is past and will never haunt you. It is quite a mystery for a man who is so organized and in control of any situation will simply put things aside like a cold case. Then suddenly you are left cold with the words, "It's either you trust me or you don't". You are stumped, like you're hit with a big old brick. You go back and think that your relationship is almost perfect. That you moved mountain and seas to be with the perfect man. He is, anyway, very loving, caring, supportive and a good provider.

So if finally you're in that position ready to lunge, push him to one corner and spill out all the ugly details. Should you do it?

I am sure in some way, we often get our message across. No matter how we get shut off. Men respond differently. "We don't get the real answers. Only the things we need to hear". They get it, he gets it. He would either change discreetly for the better, or continue to thread in the gray areas.

A friend of mine always put it this way. The old saying of "what you don't know won't hurt you". But I guess the underlying question is "Can you live with the truth-- or the lie."

What Matters Most

Some people say, never look back. Look to the future that's ahead of you. That's it, I don't know what the future is unless I'm gifted with powerful extra sensory perception. Unless I'm a prophet. Unless I'm the Oracle. I simply cannot predict how things will turn out for me. Whenever I look back, I realize that every decision I've made, the path I chose to walk on has put me where I am now.

Looking back I realize, I've always tried to live close to my comfort zone. There was never that big risk. The big leap to that next level. It was almost like I always went through the easy path simply because I was sure I could make it. Then it felt like I never moved an inch. If you don't move, if you don't leap, you'll never really get far. And that's exactly how it is.

The biggest risk I took was when I got married. It was borne out of love. The kind of thing you'd want to grow in. Something you'd risk life and limb for the person you promised to love for better or for worse, richer and poorer. Love isn't a guarantee that all will be well and good. I've been in really bad relationships. I always took that risk of falling into something without thinking about it's consequences. It felt good to be in love and no matter how painful it is to lose someone, I never regret going through the process. It's my sadomasochistic way of saying, I bleed for a feel-good love.

My marriage isn't always a bed of roses. I guess some things don't really turn out the way I expect them to be. It doesn't turn out like the story in the movies where there is self-realization in the end, hugging, reconciliation and tearful joys matched with the perfect love song. It's not always like Bridget Jones kissing Marc Darcy in the snow wearing only her knickers. Any woman wants to feel loved and wanted, probably in a different way some men want it. Quoting Carrie Bradshaw in the last season of Sex & the City "I'm looking for love. Real love. Ridiculous, inconvenient, consuming, can't-live-without-each-other love." But in reality sometimes it goes to be this way. Sometimes you know it's there but you don't feel it. Sometimes you feel it but later conceive it to be something different. There's always something not right. Something askew. And there's always either one of you working harder that the other to pull things together. To prevent things that you've held together from breaking into pieces. It will never be perfect. But what really matters is that you've given your all, your best, all the love you could give until your blood runs dry and nobody would tell you, you messed up. Just that, that you loved.