I always asked by so many people if I have a boyfriend, and I always reply “No, not yet though.”
Loyal readers of my old blog (which counts for…how many…5?) have an idea that I “almost” had one, but was innocent (and stupid) enough not to realize that he had been in love with me since freshman year in college. Oh the gay gods! I still look up to the sky with regret everytime I think about it.
And now it seems I am living the life of romantic solitude. It’s been 10 years since I first met him, and the ordeal that I had to undergo just to get over him has its hits and misses (well, mostly misses).
First, I went inside gay chatrooms. I tried looking for guys who would be interested in an effeminate gay guy who doesn’t cross-dress, has a ballooning waistline, a wounded heart, and a bleeding nose. But the usual introductions of these so-called “bisexuals” end with statements like: “No gays, effems, chubs, and losers please.” Geez, thanks dude.
So… no success there. Well at least in the local arena.
Weird as it may seem, it looks like I am more appealing towards foreigners. Although there is no way on earth that I would meet them personally and give them my patented BWBJ (Big Wide “you know what”), I managed to be friends with some of the hottest guys in distant lands. Well, that is unless they pay my flight to visit them personally.
I also tried Craigslist. I checked the personal ads of foreigners stumbled here in the Philippines for business, and looking forward to meet some Asian hotty on the side. It looked pretty interesting, taking my fantasy of hooking up with a Caucasian into reality, but thinking the reality of having my ass bleed kinda turned me off.
So to cruising places I go. There’s GOT to be a local guy who would like me. I went to the bars but it looks like the superficial guys in the chatroom come to life. I went to a run-down cinema somewhere in Manila and tried hooking up with anonymous guys, with average success, but the venue eventually became chaotic for me to handle. Good thing I left that, with a fubu in tow.
But having a fubu is not like having a boyfriend. I mean, my fubu’s good in that department, but I don’t see myself having a relationship with him.
And on all the years that I went through life being single, trying to look for love while getting over a past pain, it was only recent that I am beginning to forget the hurt. One day, I woke up and suddenly realized that I am beginning to feel for someone else…and it’s not my fubu.
(to be continued…)