I came home to an empty apartment. Reheated the dinuguan I was craving for from a week ago. I ate it with the chicken skin and chicharong bituka I bought on the way home. I hate eating alone. I used to not eat, just because there wasn't anyone to eat with.
I lit a cigarette and prepared to watch the remaining 8 episodes of the second season of Friends. At least I'll have Rachel, Monica, Phoebe, Ross, Chandler and Joey with me tonight.
5 episodes in and I receive a text from Jason telling me to meet him at Metrowalk. I didn't really feel like going. My bed didn't want me to leave it. I still changed clothes, brushed my teeth, said goodbye to Friends and shut down my laptop.
Jason and I spent 3 hours talking. When you've known each other for more than a decade, 3 hours and a bucket of beer just isn't enough. Your stories have no particular order of either importance or chronology. They become intertwined, you lose track of the main topic, and sometimes they don't even get finished.
"Remember that time when I fell in love with you?", I asked him.
"Not really." He answered.
"Ugh I hate you. Me neither."
"I remember two things though. First was you said you love how I would hold your hand every time we cross the street."
"Yeah, that was nice. John just scolds me. Hey, Look where your going. Atleast sometimes he'd push me out of the way of a car. "
"Second was you loved how when we watched a horror movie, I was holding on to you."
"Is that all?"
"Yep, pretty much."
"I remember I wrote our story once in my old phone. You know the communicator. It was qwerty."
"I remember the phone but I had no idea you wrote our story."
"See, i think that was the beauty of writing. You'll have something to look back to even when memories fail you. Damn repressed memories. I think I'll start writing again. I'll write about everything, even things that seem painful at the time. Someday, when the pain is gone, it would still be nice to look back with appreciation for who you were then."
After we paid for our drinks and food, I walked Jason to Obar where he'll meet his other friends. He asked me to go with him. I gracefully declined. As nice as the evening was. John was waiting for me to get home. I said goodbye to my gay best-friend and promised that we'll do this again soon.
When I got home. I called John, told him I had fun but I missed him. I kept telling him I love him over and over and in different tones. I fell asleep with the phone in my ear. John's presence- the warmest blanket and fluffiest pillow.
So, what's your ideal night?
