Thursday, October 25, 2007

You're My Holiday

What do I do next? This morning started out well. I woke up well and early, had a healthy breakfast of strawberries, and took a long, hot shower. I even came.

I also spent some time looking out the window, a pre-dawn glowing Baguio landscape. The glass panes are cold to the touch, telling me how it might be if I step outside. Looking, gazing, staring out.

I've been waking up early because I've never done it before. I'm hoping to find what I haven't found in the other times of the day. Not late at night, not under the glaring sun.

Awake before everyone. Anticipating the coming light. Hoping for an epiphany to strike me down.

It's been a tough year. No tougher than previous years, but I am getting older. I seem to have less tolerance for pain now. I avoid it, don't look for it. Even memories, I've been tucking away painful memories.

My birthday is coming up next month and death seems to be nearer, yet so far away.

I met a wonderful person the other day. She's about a decade younger than me, only a kid. She has that spark and optimism that I wish I had, that I wish to absorb.

I was having lunch by myself at Cafe by the Ruins, and she asked if she could share my table. I couldn't say no, despite my desire to stay quiet. But she was so nice, so earnest, and, dare I say, so innocent. My quick lunch extended into three hours.

She's in Baguio with her family and decided to explore by herself.

I found her attractive, of course, so I managed to slip in some stories about my previous girlfriends. I waited for that look, that pause, which I find amusing, from people who suddenly realize they're talking to a lez (or bi, to be exact). Instead, there was nothing. She didn't react, or she managed to hide her reaction. Either way, we ended well and exchanged phone numbers, email addresses.

When we stepped out of the cafe, she gave me a kiss on the cheek and a quick hug. I like you, she said. You seem a bit sad, but I'd like to see you again.

We've been talking on the phone since then. But I wonder, what do I do next? I don't want to jump in again, but she is making it so easy. All I need is a friend right now, but I wouldn't mind kissing her all afternoon.

After years of seeking distractions, at this point in my life, I don't want anything to distract me. I'm trying, you see, to shake off all my burdens, to find a path, to find a life again.