I recall a time when I was comfortable being recluse. It was around my late teens to my early twenties.
Looking back now, I realize that it was convenient. I was content of the safe distance and needed it that much, I guess at that time. I had been through hell as a troubled kid, having experienced physical abuse from my Tondo relatives in early puberty and survived a phase of drug abuse and getting sick because of it in the latter half of it.
‘Di pa uso noon ang child psychology to most Pinoy families and one had to deal with their own monsters alone.
I was determined to become the idealized grown-up image of pretty much everyone of my generation. So my life was all about keeping my ‘dark ages’ in Davao city a personal secret and adjusting myself to become a productive member of society’s work force back again in mother Manila.
My life was literally transitioning from the ‘sex-drugs-and-rock-and-roll’ phase to the ‘Mc.Do-part-time-job-and-boardinghouse-life-and-dreaming-of-saving-for-a-collegiate-education-somehow’ kind.
And though I still held on to the dream of having a musical career one day, I too, was gradually accepting the reality that it’s a field reserved for the ‘not-so-talented-pretty-ones’ and a privileged few.
What was most important for me was that I was repairing myself and figuring out my so-called- ‘life’… all about it… on my own… in silence… and become my own ideal good guy.
I eased my way back into ‘social life’. A change of environment was in the right timing. Iloilo made that very easy for me. And college life… finally… was a fresh and breezy new beginning.
Today, I woke up having ‘the issues of getting too close too soon’ thoughts occupying my head. As usual, since I moved-in in my… (I call it) ‘bartolina’… I’ve been getting myself used to eating breakfast, I had my cereals and instant coffee.
There were men doing repairs on some poorly constructed parts of the several-months-old-only-apartment-complex so, I went down and checked out all the noise… and of course, if there were hunky young carpenters for the visual pleasure too.
I chattered with my friendly downstairs neighbors… an old couple who’s been good to me.. lucky me. I found out from them that the pup I suspect to have some German Shepherd breed that nobody there owns is being given away. He leaves today with one of the carpenters who lives in Marikina.
What a fitting coincidence with the theme of my day!
Just when I have already gotten fond of the poor happy pup.
I’ve been friends with him since my day one here… no… make that since the very first time I met him.
And today… is the last day that I’m ever going to see him around.
I felt an ache in my chest… felt like crying really. I’ve been planning of buying him dog food and finding him a basket for his bed, in fact, because I really wanted to convince the landlord to give him to me if they couldn’t take care of him.
Since the day I parted with my own dog ‘Chichi’ who remained with ‘the Ex’ in the apartment that I shared with him for four years … and now he shares with his new ‘bitch’ who couldn’t wait to move in so, ‘the Ex’ had to pressure me to move out the rest of my belongings there asap… I have become all the more fond of and yearned for the affection of dogs.
Though, for months I lived with my cousins… I couldn’t allow myself to get attached to their dogs though, I just felt like that for some reason… I just can’t. They have large happy labs and a demanding female toy dog… and oh, cats that are as ‘bugoy’ as their dogs. They recently lost one of their ‘BaBoys’… as my ate calls em… because they’re really big and bouncy. And even from a safe distance to the pets… I too, felt the pain of their loss.
I easily notice dogs these days… yes, even the ‘galis’-(severely) infected and malnourished ones I pass by on the streets and feel sorry for them. I guess, somehow, I can relate to their feeling of abandonment.
I come from a family of animals lovers, you see. In my family’s house in Western Visayas, one would find all sorts of pets… and even rescued endangered bird species at one time… in the yard. And I already mentioned my cousins’ giant labs. That’s how fond we are of animals.
I went upstairs to my unit after the brief chat with my neighbors and took my phone and went down again. I felt a sudden urge to take photos of little ‘Muymoy’… that’s what the kids in the compound call the three-month old puppy.
Again, I felt like crying while taking our pictures, scolded myself for not doing so before… for some reason. And then, I realized that I have already become so close to him… a lot more than I thought I am. I realized that in fact, he already knows me very much… that he can sense my arrival every night even when I’d still outside and opening the gate. He’d make all sorts of excited noise under the stairs where he’s chained.
Honestly, I never like the way poorly informed people treat dogs and chain them even when it’s uncalled for.
I share a part of my meals with ‘Muymoy’ whenever I eat in my apartment. And when I eat outside… because I have come to appreciate having meals in ‘karinderyas’ along with strangers… I bring home something for him.
Tonight, there won’t be any excited ‘Muymoy’ to greet me by the stairs… no more ‘Muymoy’ to bring ‘pasalubong’ to before retiring to my bartolina. I don’t eat much barbecue and I won’t need to buy them every night anymore.
In general, apart from the fondness that I have developed for dear ‘Muymoy’ the pup… I also have had some attachments made after my break –up. Some of them unintended… others, like with ‘Pillow Pal’… I subjected myself into.
I think I better have to review my own ‘survival book’ (of my earlier life) more now… and device a new one that would fit my present situation.
I have to manage my emotional and/or intimate affairs with others to ensure my own emotional security and gradual progress. Something about easily wearing my heart on my sleeves has always been quite a liability to me as it has been advantageous.
With my situation, it is risky to easily and carelessly establish attachments. Having gone through way too many blows in life amid experiences of survival from ‘beyond normal’ pains… I don’t get better nor turn into some sort of ‘master’ of such undertakings.
It’s a different thing from the normal things people get immune to after a while. People like myself… some of us… don’t really get better… no… because of the more than the usual doze of life’s blows. It gets all the more tiring in time. You get weaker as you grow older.
It is highly risky to play with one’s own emotions. I don’t know… is ‘bi-polarity’ an acquired sickness? Because people like me instantly shift from happy to extremely sad… or angry.
These days, I am reminded also of how much I can relate to stoic types in the lgbt community. People normally pass then off as heart-breaker pricks and self-absorbed sex-addicted highly disturbed closet queens… but some of them may actually be on the same boat as I am… deeply wounded and doing their best to use whatever means available to repair one’s self.
(To be continued...)
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