And I can still feel your mouth pressed against mine.
Time suspended, my world stopped moving as I gazed into your eyes.
As we lay there, with bodies pressed against each other, all I could think of was that moment, and you. Of course you.
I was thinking about you.
Against better judgement, I went with you to your condo. I was feeling sick (sick because of the spaghetti, sick because of the heat, sick because we saw Gan and I saw the way you looked at her and how you just left me standing there to go to her [which is for another post], or a combination of everything just piling up and exploding), and UT was nearer as compared to my boarding house. I wanted to puke and I wanted to lie down. But it was stupid. I shouldn’t have gone to your condo, with the two of us alone. It’s a big no-no. It shouldn’t be done. Certain things could happen, and for people who lack a strong sense of self-control, the results would be disastrous. Which was exactly what happened.
I knew it was coming. We all have that extra sense. I’m not still alive for nothing. I have survived Davao, Manila, and all the places I’ve been to through this gut feeling. And my gut was having cartwheels, and not the good kind.
But the lure of the bed was too much. Talk about being shallow, but my mind was simply too tired to properly assess the situation. You, on the other hand, took advantage of it. I’m not blaming you – not entirely, that is. We are both at fault here, and I’m not trying to point fingers. I admit I was wrong, but you had your part, too. And it was a major part.
So I puked and went to bed. You sat beside me – we both knew I wasn’t asleep; my body was too tense to let me sleep, so yes, I knew you didn’t sleep and just played video games after you took a shower.
(You even played your wretched games beside me while I was pretending to be asleep! It was as if you were shoving it to my face how worthless and completely dumb I was, and am.)
You woke me up at eleven, because we had class at twelve.
The events then took a turn for the worse.
You started cuddling me to wake me up; I wasn’t kidding when I said I didn’t want to get up, because I really didn’t want to. I love sleeping, and I love doing nothing, and in that moment, I wanted nothing more in the world than to sleep to my heart’s desire.
And then we were touching, and hugging, and our bodies merged into one. You wanted me to wrap my arms around you, so I did, and then we became so entangled in each other’s body parts I couldn’t even describe how we looked like. I just know now I looked like a mess, but I saw that look in your eyes, and I swear, it took all of me not to fall for you.
You started talking to me, saying those meaningless words we say to each other to pass the time. I was only half-listening; more than that, I was taking you in: your face, your eyes, your smell. Remember when you said my breathing was irregular? I was trying to breathe you in, trying to take more and more for myself and hoping that it would be sufficient enough for me to remember. You were trying to make me smile, or laugh, or anything; I am generally unhappy with my life, but during that time, I was happy. You were happy, too, weren’t you?
Maybe it was just the feeling of elation, or maybe I was too lightheaded to fight, but I couldn’t stop the chain of events, and neither could you, driven by the lust embedded in your genes, but there we were, our positions on your bed getting more provocative, more suggestive, and less platonic as every second passed.
We started by lying side by side, and then you twisted around, bringing my upper body with you, then the position became awkward, so we shifted and shifted, and the desire grew higher and higher.
You traced your fingers down my arms.
You massaged circles down my back. Going lower, lower.
My arms went around your neck, holding you closer to me.
You embraced me, and held me close.
Your arms went to the small of my back and rested there.
I was already lying on top of you.
With your hands, you deftly maneuvered both of our bodies.
My hair went splaying all around my face, and yours, covering me, covering you.
I was lying on the center of your body, and you were pressed against me, and I could feel your desire wanting to break through.
I could feel your heartbeat race.
You could feel my ragged breath.
We are only human, after all, and after generations upon generations, we had this will to survive: the desire and lust.
You pushed me closer and closer to your body, until I could feel every inch of the fabric you wore, and the skin it was holding back.
Our faces were near, so near, and I drowned in your eyes.
Yours was burning with passion, and I couldn’t help but look away.
But I was drawn to you, and I could only shut my eyes now, because our faces…
Our faces were close.
The air was electrifying, and I felt like any time then, a fire would start and swallow us both.
Our foreheads were pressed together, the tips of our noses touching.
And damn, that smile.
I always fall for guys who have gorgeous smiles.
You were all I saw, and in that moment, you were the only one in my world, and you owned me, and we were smiling, and ecstatic, and in love.
Or so it seemed.
And then I was under you, and you were heavy. Really heavy. But I didn’t care. I didn’t even care that I was under you, and you were above me, that you were looming over me, and you were pressing down hard, and I couldn’t breathe any more, because oh God I think I might be falling for you you are beautiful and you’re all that I see and I can live actually live if it’s your face I see the first thing in the morning when I wake up oh God this is all so wrong and twisted and fucked up but I don’t care I love it I love it I love you-
I was supposed to stop it. I really should’ve stopped it. But I didn’t. Why, oh why, did I not? Stupid, stupid me. I was powerless to stop you. I could make up excuses and dozens of reasons but in the end, the outcome would always be the same: we did things platonic friends should and would never do.
I told you, however, that you were heavy, and you apologized profusely that I got so fucking flattered. I thought we were going to be something else. I thought I was finally, finally going to have you.
And then our lips touched.
The whole duration of our tumbling-around-the-bed-intertwined-in-each-other’s-arms-and-almost-becoming-one-but-not-quite session, our heads were always close together that I became quite drunk on the look in your eyes and the aura of your smile, but our lips never touched. Not a bit. We avoided it because we knew that would be a step further. Away. The unattainable. We were daring, but we didn’t lose all of our senses. You looked away, or I looked away. It was just how it worked.
You kissed my hair.
You caressed my torso, my arms, my hands.
You planted kisses along my neck and shoulder blades.
You whispered I love you over and over again.
I was hooked.
But the inevitable happened.
Our lips were getting closer and closer by the second, inching a bit, and then they met. I was actually pretty surprised when they did, because I thought it was bawal, but it did, so for a few minutes there, I didn’t move. Neither did you. I just lay there on top of you, with all of my clothes on, all of my senses on full alert. You lay there, under me, unmoving, with eyes closed.
And then they danced.
I don’t know who initiated it, but if you were telling me at least one piece of truth, it was that you haven’t had your first kiss yet, and if my memory serves me right, you pushed my face down with your hand, and with all the boundaries we’ve trespassed in that one hour we were entangled on your bed, I just thought fuck it and threw all remaining caution out the window, so I did. I led the dance our lips made and yours were so soft, and you were so gentle at first, and I just wanted all of you to be mine.
So we danced.
Our lips met, and I got to taste you piece by piece, like the uncovering of a mystery, one clue at a time.
It felt like I was discovering you, your lips the key that unlocks all the treasures you keep hidden from the world.
I wanted to trace your body, like a map, and draw invisible lines on it, like tracing the boundaries, the roads, and the hidden alleyways waiting to be explored.
I wanted you. I wanted all of you to be mine.
I wanted to just lay with you forever, for you to be mine always and always, but time was running out. You pleaded me to go back to bed with you, do you remember? And I was so, so, so tempted to go back, to fall asleep in your arms, to have that fantasy as long as I can. But that’s exactly it. It was a fantasy. My fantasy. To you, I was just a conquest, a thing used to boost your man-ego, to have additional XP points to your male pride. You don’t even love me, do you? You just said that in the heat of the moment. And fuck you, that knowledge hurts so much.
You hugged me from behind, and then you asked me, so tayo na na hindi tayo? You laughed. Were you laughing at me? I didn’t know what to feel anymore. I was so confused. You told me you were happy; the reason for it, I do not know. I do not want to ask, for fear of knowing the truth. It might hurt me more. I was so vulnerable, so weak. I felt so defenseless and low. And then you broke it to me: alam mo namang bawal maging tayo diba? Wala dapat makakaalam nito. They’ll judge me; they’ll judge me even more. Little boy. Foolish, naive, shallow little boy, you are too young to know the complexities and intricacies of this world we live in. You are simple-minded, and I did not and do not want to break the harsh truth to you. Nevertheless, your words hurt me, and they hurt even more because hey had a ring of truth to them, and I must admit, they were true.
Do you even remember the things you told me that fateful morning? I know you don’t. But I do. I remember. Words are powerful weapons, and when yielded the right way, they can hold so much power and destruction in them that a person could easily be ruined by an utterance or a stroke of the pen. But, dear, you must know, I can never do that to you. I’m not that heartless.
Do you know what your parting statement was? Akala ko conservative ka, yun pala… And it just broke me. My whole world crumbled down. I felt so used. You used me, oh God, he used me. I felt so ruined. I never knew you had the gall to do it, but you did, and you just don’t care enough for me. I’m just a hidden possession to you. That ugly thing you can’t get rid of but keep hidden in case your friends might see.
Dammit, until now, I can smell you. As I’m typing these words, I can breathe in your scent. Try as I may, I can’t remove the traces of your caresses. Or the feel of your lips as they met with mine. Or how you hugged me, and held me, and comforted me with your own body. I don’t know what to do anymore, and I don’t know what to think. Everything is just so confusing, and everything hurts. Oh god, help me. What do I do now? I want to break down, but I don’t have friends who care enough. I want to talk to someone, but I can’t. You told me not to. I know better than to tell. This is breaking me apart. It’s destroying me from the inside. How could you do this to me? But of course, you don’t actually care. I never really mattered to you, anyway.