How We Unravel

Sixteen

Sixteen: new beginnings

Both of us were tired but we were also content because of what we witnessed. Reconnecting with nature, isolating yourself from the pressures of the world, getting lost in our own... it was a good start. Art was right, sunrises may be mainstream, but they tell us a message. It sets to rise again and I've gained a new perspective about about the beauty of beginnings.

Because of exhaustion, we decided to just book a hotel at Baguio and go back to Manila tomorrow. Ni hindi ko napansing nakatulog na pala ako.

Taimtim ko siyang pinagmamasdan kinabukasan habang ginugulo ng kan'yang kamay ang basang buhok gamit ang maliit na twalya. His face was covered with this towel at ang tanging nakikita ko lamang ay ang kan'yang matalas na panga. Another towel was draped loosely on his waist, showing the prominence of his hip bone. Bits of water were all over his broad back, at nadedepina nito ang matitigas na kalamnan. Art has a medium built, proportionate with his height. Not too muscular, not too slim.

He placed the towel he was holding on his shoulders and every movement, every flex of muscles, every water droplets that cascades down his body... lahat nang iyon ay para akong pinapako sa aking kinalalagyan.

I have taught myself to keep a high wall as a defense, to protect myself from all the wars. In the process of building this wall, I've been to numerous places, I've been with different kinds of men. Men who told me they love me just to get me to bed—lighting candles and preparing dinners—and with men who wanted nothing but rough sex, gagging me, bending me over, and tying my hands.

I fucked in different places—under the scorching heat of the sun on a white-sand beach, while sipping champagne in a yacht, in the confines of the inside of a car, even in a men's shower room. I've been undressed by different kinds of hands.

But those were nothing. All of them were attempts to defend myself in the same way the immune system defends the body — by knowing the enemy.

But I've never been with someone like Art. Someone who is so driven in his passion of the arts, someone who selflessly gives himself away, someone who slow dances under the moonlight, someone who sings the classics for you even though he knows singing is not for him.

Whenever I'm with him, we didn't have to go into the details. We didn't have to know what made us who we are. I don't know about his family, I don't know about his friends, and neither does he, but it almost feels like we've known each other for a lifetime. With him, I feel like the past is irrelevant and what's important is who we are right now.

With him, everything just feels... lighter.

Na parang nasa iba kaming mundo.

And something just feels right.

And in that something, I wanted to believe again. To trust. Again.

To see new beginnings again.

I made a mental promise that this chance would be my last straw.

He looked back at me with his lazy eyes. Ni hindi ko napansin na kanina pa pala ako nakatitig sa kan'ya. He gave me a half-smile, and winked.

I rolled my eyes.

"Pa-cute," I said, smiling. Agad niyang nahanap ang mga ngiti ko at sinuklian iyon.