WHAT FOOT TO FORWARD?

WHAT FOOT TO FORWARD?
There was this girl who watched the same series that I was fond of: "Scrubs." I think that was the only thing that hooked us up, anyway. In between episodes, we talked about relationship, about dating. I said, I like dating a friend, that way she knows about my crazies--- I have a lot of them, and I always thought that being affront and honest is the best way to avoid surprises. She disagreed. She says that it’s best to hide all the crazy stuffs. Like Carla, the head nurse slash mother-figure in the series, she thinks that it’s better not to tell that she cries “because she doesn’t know if there’s a cat heaven” or she checks the toilet first because she’s “afraid of toilet snakes.”

Almost two years had passed since that conversation. I discovered a lot about her. Aside from that she loved “Scrubs,” I knew about some stuffs that could have turned off a lot of guys, but to me, it didn’t matter. Those “crazies” didn’t make her less of a woman to me (even if her arms are bulkier than mine, but that was then!) I loved her. Yes, I have said this before. And no, I’m not going after her. I’m simply coming to terms with my feelings. It took me so long, but healing takes time. (Plus, the catalyst for the healing is the fact that we'll be in the same law school by June!)

Lately, it’s bugging me that the reason I’m avoiding her is because I know, the moment I see her, no matter how much I pretend to be angry at her, I’ll let out a sigh, surrendering to the truth that no matter how I try, nothing changed. Even if, after two years, I heard, knew and saw all of her “crazies” underneath. I feel great already, having this written down because it means that I have come to terms with my feelings. I’m no longer angry. I have accepted the fact that we weren’t right for each other. Admittedly, I was more wrong for her than she was for me.

THE "L" WORD
As I look back, I realized that love is complex, that love is not about meeting the perfect person---someone who graduated from a top university with a MA degree, as one of my friends qualifies. Maybe, it’s meeting that girl who spoke of hiding her crazies, took leave of her law school studies, dated someone way older than she is--- someone who is wrong for you for the right reasons, but somehow made right for you by that feeling that together, you could brave Life. Is that love? I’m not an expert. I’m not a veteran in forming relationships. I couldn’t even say if that’s love with conviction. Maybe it’s love, maybe not. The only thing that I’m telling you is that it’s possible to feel for a person imperfect that she is. No, I don’t mean, feel, as pahipo. I mean, that ‘Oh Mr. Webster could never define what’s being said between your heart and mine…’ That kilig (how Jolina Magdangal, that word.) you experience when you’re with another person.

CLICHE
I wouldn’t dare tell you that love is transformative. That it will make that imperfect person perfect for you. It is something beyond my experience. And I’m convinced that it’s a cliché. Love is a universal experience, and yet it is an individually-nuanced experience. For some people, love will indeed make that person perfect for you. To some, it will make them see the other person perfectly, and yet still love them.

So we go back to the age old question: Is it best to just be yourself, and hope that somehow, someone out there--- the pedestrian on the street or the fellow commuter on the train--- will see you perfectly, and love you? Or is best to put on your best shoes, and put your best foot forward, in the hope of catching the eyes of a shoe fetishist--- someone exactly your type?

As for me, I will put on my best shoes, my best dress shirt and swagger my way on the avenue to commute on the train. No, I’m not backing off from my earlier position---- that’s just who I am.