It is mid-summer and we are spending the holy week in Marinduque. We are playing truth and dare game along the beach with his friends. Suddenly, we are on the hot seat. “So, are you two together?”, they ask us. “You know the answer guys. Jay’s a very special person for me.”, he says while looking at me. Then the attention shifted to me. “Same here. Gerry’s the most wonderful person I’ve ever met.” Then, cheers from his friends. Somehow, they dare us to kiss. We also seal the first “I love you’s” in front of them. Summer day instantly transforms into a cold, breezy night. We are two bodies becoming one, hugging while floating above the silent, placid, moonlit sea. The view of the full moon glorifying us from the sky is breathtaking. From nowhere, strong, giant waves come rushing toward us and takes me away. The waves bring me to its depth and back to the shore, and I find myself crashing with the sharp rocks.
It is the drowning feeling which awakens me, and later magnifies to a weird feeling I cannot even describe. I breathe heavily and check my luminous watch. It’s just around 5 a.m. Gerry seems restless with his occasional shifts beside me. I think of holding him but change my mind in an instant.
I try to remember how we got in this motel. We decided to call it a night after an hour of drinking and dancing in Government. Inside his car, we still went on with our jokes on how we missed each other. I was really drunk, having gulped down four bottles of beers and a glass of vodka. He was a little drank too, but sober enough to drive. It was obvious that neither of us wanted to go home then.
“So, where are we going?” I asked him with my eyes closed, feeling a little bit dizzy.
“Let’s go to this club in Malate, Jay. The night is still young.” He said.
We headed towards Manila and found ourselves approaching the strip of bars in Malate. He pulled to a stop, and asked me, for the second time, if I wanted to go there or spend time in a quiet place.
“Anywhere, Gerry. I just don’t want to go home yet.” The drunkenness was gone now.
“Then, let’s go to a motel.” I laughed at him for telling this. But I know there’s some seriousness in his tone.
After taking an unplanned u-turn away from Malate and crisscrossing what seemed to be hundreds of streets, we found ourselves in some motel. I, myself, was surprised by the sudden courage I had. I have gotten over the one-night stands typical of the gay lifestyle, and have sworn to stand up to my belief that relationships matter first rather than sex. But that night was a different night. It was nothing short of a grandiose plan, a forced culmination of all the time wasted and forgone opportunities.
I wouldn’t simply call it sex, it was a lovemaking that we did. Lying on our back and holding each other’s hand, for a few seconds, that tingling, old feeling resurfaces. Gently, I let my hand loose, afraid of the implications it may bring. I still remember the last time we spent the night together as lovers. I never thought it would happen again. Here I am, lying beside him in a strange room, but now maintaining a certain distance, and sending signs that are only sent by foolish people, afraid but wanting of the what if’s, wanting but afraid of the if… then…’s.
A melancholic, empty chair beside the window, barely recognizable from the dark, transports my thoughts to that last night which signaled the end of summer. It is like watching my own play, but now distantly seeing myself from his eyes, feeling the same hurt, the same betrayal. I was stealthily putting on my shoes while sitting on that chair facing the bed, all the while memorizing his body, for the last time, as he was sleeping. Suddenly he woke up, and wondered why I was dressed up and about to leave.
“Where are you going? What’s the problem?”
“Nothing. I just want to go.”
“Jay, this is not the time to make jokes. Have I done anything wrong?” Gerry leaned on the headboard, scratching his eyes, his grogginess now gone.
“I think this is the end, Gerry.” I said. “Please, don’t let me explain. Just let me leave.”
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