LOVER'S DEGREE (A short story) boyxboy

Thanks to those who follows me and reads my stories.

Ti Voglio Molto bene was a success.

 I have written a short story for you guys. I hope you would support this as much as you supported my previous work.

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                      When I woke up this morning I knew that I didn't love him anymore. I watched him as he slept beside me , arms wrapped around my waist, face half-buried in the flesh of my shoulder. His loud snores rudely stabbed the silence around us. I struggled to sit, removing the weight of his arms from my body. When I managed to, he turned so that he lay on his back, arms spread on the bed that suddenly seemed too narrow. I rubbed my eyes and brushed my hands through my hair, putting the cowlicks in place. His mouth was open. I could see a fine trail of spittle running from the side of it. I turned away in revulsion.

Before getting up, I held back the urge t cover his face with a pillow or the worn flannel blanket that he loved as much as I detested it. I would have given anything to be rid of that sight.


He would not be up until seven-thirty, twi hours before his first class. He would kiss me on the mouth without even gargling, before sitting to eat the breakfast that I had prepared. He had a terrific appetite. No pan de sal for him, always fried rice and eggs served with dried, salted fish or sausages and a big glass of orange juice. He said that his work at the gym demanded a meal of this size but i think not. If not for his daily exercise, he would be obese.

He would eat anything that I cooked, Even that Chicken A La King experiment that had the consistency if sinigang. That was long ago. I have perfected it now, along with the Pastel de Lengua that he eats with gusto.

But there would ne no cooking from me today. Stepping into the cold spray of the shower, I decided that if he wanted breakfast, he wold have to cook it for himself.

As I entered our room, I saw that he had kicked the covers once again. Half of it had already fallen on the floor, He slept in the nude, whether hwe had sex or not.  His body was as toned as ever, not an ounce of fat hanging from his belly. Looking at him, I felt anything but delight. Or arousal. 

While drying my hair with he towel, I remembered waking up with his stiff sex pressing on my thigh or backside and we would make love as if we hadn't the night before. How I loved him then.

I dressed quickly, careful not to wake him, not because I wanted him to get all the sleep that he could. I just didn't want to have to talk to him. I was tired of his mindless chatter and stupid remarks. I got out of the house without awakening him.

             While driving on EDSA, I noticed that the car smelled so like him. I used to tell him not to douse himdelf with his perfume that could be cloying when sprayed in large amounts. But he never listened, as usual.  We used to to wear the same perfume. I stopped using his brand months ago. But I could still smell him on me, on my clothes, in my car. I thought of ways to remove his scent as I passed Cubao. I saw that there was a new Meryl Streep movie playing.

I told myself that I was going to see it because she was my favorite actor and I wasn't going to take him with me. When we watched movies, all he did was snuggle up to me and sleep. He never appreciated good movies. When I tried to start discussions about a movie we had seen together, his insights were so shallow I always regretted initiating them. He preferred to see those martial arts B-movies entitled Raging Fury 2 or Dragon Fists or something.

I told myself; I'm never ever going to fall for a gym instructor again. 

When I arrived at the office, Amy, my secretary, was on the phone. She mouthed his name and I told her softly to tell him that I wasn't in yet. I closed my eyes as I sat on my chair. Like clockwork. His calls always came when I got to the office and in the afternoon, before I left. If he wanted to be fetched from the gym or if we were going to meet somewhere, he would call. He could drive but he didn't want to buy his own car. He preferred taking cabs. In one of his stupid jokes, he said he fancied himself a connoisseur of cabs.

God! If I coud only make him disappear.

I tried to think of something else, but I couldn't. He had a funny way of sneaking into my mind sometimes. I proceeded to attend to my tasks, ignoring all vestiges of him in my mind. His smile, his eyes that always seem to implore, his gait. Before I went out for lunch, Ammy peered into my office and told me he was on the phone. I didn't want to talk to him, but I had no choice.

He didn't notice my irritation. He never knew how to be sensitive at the right time. I realized this long ago. He would usually flare up over the most mundane things, react to the simplest of remarks in a violent way- yet he would ignore the things that needed his full attention. Things like my growing dislike for him, for the way his ears stick out of his head, or the way he speaks when he's trying to make a point. I don't like the way he touches me when hie's drunk. I absolutely detest him when he's in front of the TV: watching those idiotic wrestling shows, mesmerized; or laughing like a hyena at the foolish inanities of a gag show. Maybe that was where he got his sense of humor. Maybe he was just born that way.

Maybe I shouldn't really care.

I went out for lunch glumly.

When I came back to my office, the applicant scheduled for a job interview was waiting for me. I went to the washroom. While shaking thoughts of him out of my head by dousing my face with water from the faucet, I decided that I wouldn't let him affect me this way again.

But as luck would have it, the applicant only reminded me of him. Tense but trying real hard to hide it, that was how he was when we first met. Although  the applican't trancsript and background training were exemplary, I didn't like him. His resemblance in disposition to him worked against him. Reminding myself of the decision I made in the comfort room, I told the applicant plainly (and coldly, I think) that he could come back for the second interview, a step closer to being hired.

After the applicant left, I told Amy I didn't want to be disturbed with any calls or visits. I closed my eyes and sat back-trying , but not succeeding, to relax. My chair was soft and plush; at another time I would've dozed off but I couldn't now. My mind was full of thoughts too quick and too intense to describe. What right did he have to make me feel this way? All he did was nag me when he felt insecure about our relationship,  accusing me of infidelity when in truth he was the flirt! When he got that way, he was worse than my mother. And my father left her. This has got to stop, I decided.

I have every right to be happy and be at peace. If it means leaving him, the I would do it. I couldn't go on like this; I relly couln't.

Tonight, I told myself, I'm going to break it to him.