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JP's world

My intimate thoughts. My heart's deepest desires. My darkest secrets. My closet poetry. My biggest fears. My secret life. Welcome to my world.

Sunday, April 23

Sugar Rush

Sugar rush.

I guess this is the best phrase to describe the past three days of my life.

It’s like when you’re in the middle of the desert, under the scorching heat of the sun and you hopelessly crave for a bottle of ice cold Coke. Then out of nowhere you find one and you savor it as it goes through your throat down to your stomach. And after you consume all of it, you burp in utmost satisfaction.

The craving.

I met him on the last week of March, two days after he arrived in Manila, and a few hours before his flight to Surigao. Even before he came, Benjie, the executive director of the organization I am working for, has been announcing to everybody in the office that my future boyfriend was coming. I just laughed it off because I was used to his habit of pairing me up with every possible prospect around. I was a bit curious though, because his recommendations in the past have not been that bad. Apollo was his latest pick and my newest challenge.

I can vividly recall the first time I saw him, and I remember being disappointed. I wasn’t attracted at first sight, despite the fact that he had natural European features. I texted my bestfriend Calvin, and I told him that Legolas, my other prospect, was lucky because I don’t like this new guy.

But as the night progressed and we started talking, I sensed the intellectual connection and suddenly I was drawn, more to his mind, than to his looks. Not that he was not physically attractive, because he was, believe me! It’s just that his mind was more beautiful than his face, and that was something I couldn’t resist.

Was it the effect of alcohol? I may have had too many bottles of San Mig light, for me to be able to speak in straight English, discussing things I never thought I could in my entire life. Well, I guess “alcohol” really has a lot to do with “chemistry”.

By the end of the night, I was tipsy. And I noticed he was too. But I didn’t care. I had fun, and that was all that mattered.

Fast but sweet.

Too bad he had to leave the next morning for Mindanao. We didn’t have the chance to meet again. But thanks to technology, we were able to communicate despite being islands away from each other.

He said he wasn’t fond of texting, but he was polite enough to reply to every message that I send. And sweet even to text me first a few times to ask how I was doing or just to say good night.

Then he invited me to go dancing, two weeks before he went back to Manila. Of course I agreed. I tried hard not to think so much about it, since I knew that there was no assurance that I will be in town when he gets back.

But as fate would have it, the computer in our field office broke down so I had to stay a few days at the office in Manila to process the data that we gathered in the field before the holy week.

So we met for the second time. I realized it was not just the effect of alcohol after all. We really had chemistry, as I know we both enjoyed the night even if all we did was talk.

The second was followed by the third, the fourth, and the fifth time. We have been constantly seeing each other since he came back from Mindanao. I still don’t know how I easily grew comfortable with someone who comes from a different race and culture, was four years older, and wasn’t gentleman enough to offer to take me home the first time we went out alone together.

Reality check.

I have been fighting the feeling since day one, mostly because I know he has a girlfriend whom he “shares a flat with” back in his country. Another thing was the fact that I know he would not stay long here in the Philippines. I have been protecting myself from pain all these years and I am not about to break my shield for something that is so unsure and fleeting.

Still, I gave myself this chance. For once, I wanted to stop thinking about what would happen tomorrow and just enjoy today.

The sugar has lost its effect and my stomach is starting to hurt because of the acid.

I may have to choose Pepsi over Coke the next time around. At least there’s no sugar.

(To Jackie, who knew about this from the very start, follows the updates like an avid telenovela fan and insists that my stories have 100% kilig factor)