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Archive for the ‘Clumsy Cuz I’m Falling’ Category

On Sunday, my mom woke me up extra bright and early at 7 am.

I squinted as she opened the blinds, wth? It’s still too early for church.  I shaded my eyes and sort of focused on the being awake part of things and realized that my mom was talking a mile a minute.

But what really jolted me awake was this part of her long, long speech:

“…his name is Beau, and I think you’d really like him.”

*blink, blink, blink*

Say what???

Did my mom–no, scratch that–did my Asian Mom who has always discouraged dating of any sort really just try to set me up?

I had to clarify.

“Who?”

“He’s in the Marines. He’s a very good guy.”

That didn’t really answer my question, only reinforced the whole “encouragement to date” thing. I felt like I was slipping into a weird parallel universe where my mom didn’t criticize my dates or tell me at every opportunity about how I should focus on everything else but the guy in my life.

“Wait, what?”

“He’s my friend’s son. You’re coming with me today. Meet him, talk to him, keep him company.”

And wow. I felt like I was being officially Matched. It felt almost like an out-of-body experience…like watching a sitcom starring me and my mom, but knowing in the back of my head that this couldn’t be my life cuz it was just too darn…well, impossible.

I had grown up fighting with my mom over boys, guys, men, boyfriends, guy best friends, and in whatever form the male of the species came in. I mean, this random break-of-dawn conversation came at the heels of another weird mom conversation.

Me: …so yeah, he was really handsome and he smelled really good, too!

Mom: Handsome and smells good, that sounds dangerously close to being gay. Are you sure he wasn’t gay?

Me: uh…

Mom: (without missing a beat)…because if he was gay, I’m completely okay with you having a gay boyfriend.

That conversation, as strange as it was, is more in-line with what my mom thinks about me and dating in general.  On the other hand, I did go and meet this Marine. He was everything my mom said he was. Except that I couldn’t exactly “date” him with both of our moms watching in the sidelines.

So, I told my mom that he seemed like a really nice guy. Period. Nothing more.  She gave me a look, put her hands on her hips and said, “At least be friends with him.”

Sure.

Maybe not.

Even though he was kind of cute. He was very courteous. Great manners. Amazing arms. He was a Marine. And my mom already liked him per se. But still.

It’s just too weird, no?

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I have to admit, I like the way you say your name. Every time I get a voicemail from you, “Hey, it’s me…” and then you say your name in that dry “Yes-it’s-me-again” tone. Sometimes you’ll say it really fast. Sometimes you’ll say it as an afterthought. Like you still wouldn’t expect me to know your voice over the phone. I like how you always leave a voicemail, too.

It’s a chance for me to hear your voice in the middle of the day…because you know I won’t call you back till the end of mine.

I have to admit, I like the way you answer my phone calls. “Hey!” Like you really mean it. “Hi there,” or “Hey you,” like you’ve been waiting for it.

It’s probably just wishful thinking on my part.

But, I have to admit, I do kind of maybe just a little bit sort of like you.

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It’s not butterflies, but he’s under my skin.

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Ever met anyone who overwhelmed you just by being? Yeah…when Evee and @Sigh asked me about him, the only word that really came into my mind was “overwhelming.”

Let’s call him McDreamy cuz even Eon agrees on that count. Haha.

Almost everything about him overwhelmed me. I mean, just looking into his eyes (“are they ‘dreamy’?” asks Eon) is overwhelming. What are you trying to do, dude? Steal my soul? Even @Sigh had to go with an “Oh, shit.” at the sight of his picture. Jared Leto much anyone?

Overwhelming, I tell you. But still dreamy.

And then, there’s his life resume. He’s been everywhere. He’s done things I’ve only ever wished I could. He’s actually helped people. No, scratch that. He has changed people’s lives. Katrina, he was there. Impoverished countries, he’s established foundations and gone to help. Homeless people, he is armed with nail and hammer with Habitat 4 Humanity.

He has traveled. He takes the kind of travel pictures I’ve only ever dreamed I had the vision for. He meets the locals, follows them into places that only locals would ever consider “normal” by any stretch of the word. He finds the beauty and the commonality in the foreign and different.

He dives into new endeavors with an enthusiasm and carelessness of a guy who can’t possibly fail. He’s going to start a band. Just ‘cuz. He rides a motorcycle in a tuxedo to go to a friend’s wedding. He’ll run after the guy who stole his shirt at knife point. He’s had short hair, and he’s had Jesus-hair. He’s had scruff, a full beard, and been clean-shaven. He’d show up dripping wet from a downpour just because he said he would. He doesn’t care about appearances at all. I wonder how you had to be raised to simply not care. To be so laid back and comfortable in your own skin that the possibility of looking like a drowned rat in front of new people doesn’t faze you.

His friends ask him two things: “What are you up to now?” and “Where in the world are you?”

But, I don’t really know if I’m impressed. I’m overwhelmed.

Part of me is more impressed with the guy who has the steady professional, slightly boring and possibly spiritually unfulfilling job. But then I’d know I can count on someone who will be there. I am more impressed with the guy who can make me feel safe instead of awed. I feel more comfortable with the one who I know is grounded instead of spirited. Is that bad? I think it’s just about safety.

But then…maybe I’m just jealous of the free-spirit of McDreamy. Maybe I wish I had more to tell about me than, “Oh, I’m studying for the bar.” I mean to a guy who spent nearly a decade in four different colleges (just because he could) simply for the fun of learning, that doesn’t seem like such a big deal.

I don’t know. Maybe it’s the prospect of not knowing how I could contribute into his life in any meaningful way that really overwhelms me. Hmmm…

But as I always say with these things, “We’ll see.”

And he’s still so damn pretty.

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…again.

In yet another coffee shop, in another city, while still studying for the Bar, I get another random stranger offer me his phone number.

And yes, this guy’s older, too. Another Sugar-Daddy on the prowl. This time, he writes plays and composes music. He says he works in the industry. *coughs* He told me to “go ahead, you can Google me.”

I smiled and said, “Maybe later tonight. I actually don’t get the wireless signal here.” –> which was true…and the reason why I sometimes go to that cafe. It prevents me from hopping online in search of a worthy distraction.

He invited me to a jazz concert. I politely declined, telling him about how busy I was studying for the bar.

“I’m really good at what I do,” he says.

I smile. “I’m sure you are.” I said with grave platitude.

He grins. “You can tell I’m a little cocky, can’t you.”

I give him another bland look and shrug. “Let’s just call it confidence for now.”

He bursts out laughing and declares that he likes me.

After a good thirty minutes of talking to me from the other table, I get a text from a good friend, JJC, to go work out. I was slightly upset that those thirty minutes were robbed from my study schedule, but…this guy was kind of entertaining.

But nonetheless, those are thirty minutes of non-law-school-learning.  When he saw me packing up, he strolled over and took one of my notecards. (No, not a post-it note this time). “Here, darling, let me give you my number. You should really call me.”

I smile and nod. “It was nice meeting you.” I leave quickly, wondering the whole time why I can’t just allow myself to be Sugar Daddied.

It would certainly please the wallet so.

Oh well. Here’s another number to add to the stack of “iunno what to do with you.”

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Today, I was sitting in a restaurant, laughing and talking…

…and for the first time in a really long time, I thought about how bad the timing was.

I don’t need a reason to stay. I don’t want a reason to want. I just want to be.

But of course, life would just have to be inconvenient. So of course, nothing’s going to happen.

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Tonight, how I feel now, sitting here with tears on my face, is just one reminder that I was right.

I just wish I wasn’t.

But that’s the problem, isn’t it? I wish too hard, I wish too much.

And I’m just reminded that everything was always a disappointment.

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I don’t gamble. As a general rule.

 

 

Except that looking back at my own history…I take quite a lot of chances with my life, my future and my heart.

I don’t really know if that’s a good thing. 

Sigh.

In my dialect, I am what my mom calls, “humok ug ilong” –> soft in the nose.

*wrinkles nose*

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Richard Wilbur said it best:

What is the opposite of Two?
A lonely me. A lonely you. 

There might have been a slight miscalculation on my part:

You see, I didn’t count on missing you.

 

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…between a rock and a hard place.

When going backwards is about falling.

When going forward isn’t really an option.

The minutes, hours and days go on.  Erosion sets in.  Emotions come to fore.  Shaken and starved.

And yet…unwilling to move, scared to lose.  Every step forward has been earned. Yet any movement away hurts.

In a way, I am exactly where I am supposed to be.

But, it’s like a trap, shackles, a prison around myself to keep me safe.  If I don’t move, I can’t get hurt.

I know someday…one day soon…I have to choose.  I cannot stay where I am forever.  I am starved.  I am eroded.  I waver.

How do you teach your heart it’s a crime to fall in love again?

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