Conversations with My Future Wife

Checking the wall clock above me, the hands were pointing at 1:35. The wee hours in the morning. Though she was sharing her problems and asking me to help her find some solutions, overall, it was indeed a lovely and enjoyable conversation. Without realizing, I had been having this very nice talk with her for more than two and a half hour that night. Giselle, the girl I knew a couple of years back from a former work place. The girl in which lingered in my heart, once in a blue moon. The girl that I deliberately abandoned for fear of hurting her further. The girl that I didn’t have the heart to tell the truth, that I might not be the guy, whoever she thought I was. The girl who was just sharing her insecurities about her current boyfriend.

As deep in my core I questioned my ability to become a good husband -and as Bal would agree that there’s nothing but the spirit of ibu-ibu (motherhood) that reside inside me- I do fantasize of having a married life sooner or later. Of course Bal would bless that very moment if he would see me fit to one day become a husband. He said, “I can picture A Mad, A Kiong, A Ndy, or even A Ndro (some of our friends) getting married. But I don’t know about you. You are like the embodiment of a living housewife in the way you do things and conduct your hobbies and interests”. Which was of course so hard to deny.

So then why this urge? A very strong urge which I didn’t know how to base that on. To tell you the truth, even those days were gone. The days when I felt the pressures. Heavenly loads from parents, from other family members and friends alike for me to jump into the familyhood bandwagon. These overwhelming pressures weren’t as visible as let’s say, half a decade ago. Frankly, I think they’d somehow already guessed. Thus stopped wishing and hoping about seeing me toting a gal home planning our wedding reception.

And then suddenly Giselle was back into my life. Her calls were getting more frequent. She shared, she cried, she talked, and I listened closely. (Oh yes, she’s another Libra in distress!) There was nothing but pure joy in assisting her needs. Of course she would feel very comfortable having this shoulder to cry on. Diamond had officially stopped becoming a woman’s best friend. It’s us, the sensible gay males who would listen and give our undying supports for them. Though sometimes this attention giving could backlash to us. Especially if these female specimens didn’t know any better.

After a while I began to talk about her with Mr. Ripley, our new dependable psychic at the office (who of course as my best friend, already knew everything about me). Mr. Ripley also knew her from way back. Back when I could feel her attentiveness for me. The way she wanted to care for me, for my health, for my family. Back then I had to shrug her off. I didn’t want give her any impression or to promise her anything but a profound friendship that I may as well offer her. Of course I couldn’t tell her the truth, as she was sort of affiliated with my dear church and all the wonderful people I met there along the way.

“Just be kind to her,” Mr. Ripley would start one of his psychic sessions. “I can feel that they’re going to break up very soon” he said about Giselle and Antonio’s relationship.

“But hell, I am not going to date her! Are you forgetting one very important detail here?” I snapped at him.

“But, yes, it is your destiny Professor. One that you may not be able to just refuse. You’ll be about 36 or 37 when finally you’d have her hand on the isle”

“What? Are you sure? I mean by that time she’d be like 35 or something. Would she wait for me that long? And how am I going to be able to just leave this so-called lifestyle just like that?”

“Be patient my child. One day you’re going to feel so tired of being in this position and you will want to settle down. And when that happened, you’ll have no better person in mind to fill that perfect spot in your heart”

Scary.
Yet somehow relieving.

And still I was not sure on why would I felt relieved hearing this. Is it because that I felt that in the end I wouldn't have to be old and lonely? Is it because that I felt like God had indeed arranged a special someone to welcome me at the end of my wild journey? Crazy as it might sound though.

Another day, another chat on the phone. It was nearing midnite. Another phone call from her.

“You know the craziest thing just happened?” she began.

“What? What? What?”

“You know that my parents and siblings never expected too much out of me getting married any sooner?”

“Yea, you told me that before”

“But do you know why?”

“Ok. Why?”

“I just found out last week. It turned out that secretly, a few years back my dad went to this Guamya master (Chinese fortune teller)”

“OMG. And what did this person tell him?”

“Just relax Sir, your daughter will get married someday. But it is not going to happen within these years. You may have to let her younger siblings pass her on this, she wouldn’t mind. She'll never loose hope on love. So, let me tell you this, she’ll get hitched in her mid thirties. Someone nice. You don’t have anything to worry lah…”

…

I just sat there. Stunned for a couple a second in silence.

Scary.
Yet somehow relieving.





Welcoming possibilities,





Prof. Utonium

Note: But how could that young beefy-daddy-with-a-baby-stroller neighbor still look as enticing as ever?

Copyright: Opening Image. Corbis © 2008

Supraliminal Mr. Ripley

“How do you feel?” he asked. “Nothing, why?” I replied. Then he whispered, “Some of them is lurking around you, but you have nothing to worry about. They are just curious about you, because your energy is so bright”. I felt a sudden urge to smack him. First of all, I don’t need to know if other beings happened to lurk behind, in front or anywhere around my cute being. Second of all, for God Sake, we were in a funeral home, attending a wake just outside of the city. Then as the final twist he said, “Later if you wanna pray for her departing soul, try not to gaze directly at her face”

For the last couple of weeks I felt this uneasiness that was so easy to understand yet so difficult to explain. I didn’t have to look very far to find the culprit of these worrisome occurrences. He is my own colleague at work, who suddenly was gifted to see things that others couldn’t see. Like an opening of his third eye that would show a whole new dimension for him to tell. And believe me, like he was given a new toy to play with, this person is so eager to tell his stories. The talented Mr. Ripley as we would call him, is a speaker who’s extremely dependable for relaying his visions at any time of the day. Not that we asked.

You could say that I am not exactly foreign about the subject. I do have so many called indigo-esque friends. And furthermore, the nature-loving personality of mine, would sort-of open my eyes and heart about these natural occurrences. I may feel the harmonious chi around me or even any disturbed energy level, which would happen at times. And also, because we are all God’s creatures, living in the same place separated by a thin other dimension, we just need to share our domain, our fare and sometimes our needs.

Although very small, personally I know that I can feel or smell “things”. I know when my guardian angels are gearing up for battle in a dark unfamiliar place. Furthermore, I'd know whether or not I am welcomed in a space. Mimicking what they said in the movies, I always uttered: “We come in peace, hopefully you guys will welcome us”.

I wish this was the case with Mr. Ripley. I am guessing instead of asking for permission he would say something like: “Though we come in peace, but you still need to show me your leader!”

We would eat a restaurant, and suddenly he would choke a bit. His face would blush. And then he would close his eyes for a while. This had happened so frequently that we wouldn’t think too much about this, “Oh he has another vision session”. And then he would rise from his seat, slowly walked out of the premises while making a funny gesture with his right hand. And strange enough, the air around us usually felt cooler and less cramped afterwards. This is almost as if he was taking away some of “them” outside so it wouldn’t feel too crowded inside.

One day when we were having a BK Meal, one of us shouted, “Do you smell fresh flower?” As if it was his cue, then with his finger, the talented Mr. Ripley would gesture to the one who asked, that something was indeed standing beside us. Kyaaaaaa!

“And just like us, they also need to eat” he said while rearranging a portion of his meal neatly in his plate, leaving some for “them” to enjoy.

Other than that, his newfound gift seemed to enable him to mind-read and foretell the future. But then again, I wasn’t born yesterday, I too always knew when he was trying to read me. Given an early alarm I would be able to shield my own gates.

Frustrated by this, then I said: “Dude, you know how I hate my mom when she happened to feel the need to monitor me? I felt that you are monitoring me with this new super-vision of yours”. And then he understood, “Okay, I am sorry. I wont get inside you, unless you asked, right?”

Right.

And for now, I am content.

As long as he would stop informing us that there were other beings around us.
We knew that already. We knew that we are sharing this world with them. We just didn’t need to know about how they look, why they were there and what exactly that they wanted.

Kyaaaa!!


Uneasy State,





Prof. Utonium

PS. Unless he would be able to control his urge to tell, trips to old buildings, museums, & antique stores would be eliminated until further notice. Hehe.

Copyright: Opening Image. Corbis © 2008