Part 1 here.
"Mahal, please wag naman break-up. Please..."
He was shaking. It was the nth time I hurled him a threat. I was always like this during the latter part of the relationship: a person whose only scapegoat to an argument was to end things. That was my defense mechanism on a losing end - for I knew it was the only way. But that time was different. I wanted to leave him because I got tired of everything. And my conscience couldn't handle the guilt from my mistakes and misdemeanors.
I can only remember slapping him in the face, push him literally to the wall, and then punched him in the chest. I had to resort to violence to drive him away. I thought that wounding him would make him decide to leave me. I had no other idea in my pea-sized mind what to do just so he'd walk away.
That was four years ago.
He got employed in a prestigious global company after that breakup. As a trainee, he was sent to the US for six months. It was this time that he was able to save for himself. He had a bright career and a promising future in that enterprise. I, on the other hand, continued as a consultant, until I got word from an agent in Singapore. I got hired to the same position, and left the country in two weeks.
It was during those times when I was short of funds, and the only one I could think of approaching was him. I had to muster the guts to ask him. He was very kind to accommodate my request. A few hundred dollars and a word of honor were my chips in the gamble as an OFW.
In two months, we got back together. Again. We communicated regularly, if not constantly, over SMS, chat, and email. I made it a point to visit Manila from time to time, and so did he to Singapore. My family knows him, only as a friend. His lola got endeared to me.
What went wrong were mostly by me. I guess I wasn’t ready to commit myself to a long-distance relationship. And it manifested in my actions. As much as I was telling him “I love you”, my actions contradicted my words. I lied to him about my night outs, only to be confessing to him the truth in the end. My so-called “love” for him didn’t overpower the hunger for sex that was driving me crazy. Promiscuity was one of the main reasons why he got insecure.
He gave me several chances to work things out. I wanted to let him go to make no further damage. But the more we held on to it, the more it hurt him. Because I kept doing what offends him – looking for sex elsewhere. Even if he practiced chastity at his end, I couldn’t help but find my outlet on mine. Even if he already begged several times not to have sex, he’d be disappointed and upset about my disobedience.
When he reached his second year with the prestigious company, I invited him to Singapore to explore possibilities. We had the best time of our lives. But it was also one of the worst.
It was that time that he learned about everything: from the baths, to the g4m contacts, to the ones that I consider friends in the gym, etc. He even got to read a message from an unknown number which asked how I am, or whether I was free to have fun. What stabbed him more was the thought that he was unable to help in his familial obligations (he's the kuya who brings home the bacon).
After several weeks of trying, he went back to Manila. A failed promise was more overwhelming and devastating than parting. He didn't cry because we had to be separated again; he cried because I failed him. I promised him that he could get a job, and convinced him to resign his permanent post. When he got here, he said I hardly helped him build as much connections and referrals so he could secure a living.
In my heart of hearts, I know I was to blame. I had my fault in it as well. But I had to accept that it happened and had to charge to experience. It wasn't easy seeing him go, hearing his blame, feeling his disappointment - or rather regret - that he ever heeded my advice. If it's wrong to lead an innocent person to a sinful living, it's even more torture to bring someone to a miserable state, more so if it wasn't intentional.
I think it was around three months (or up to six) that I was there to help him regain his confidence and self-esteem. It took him around a month to get a new job. It was a matter of time. I had to be supportive without being careless. I had to be caring but realistic. I had to be understanding but at the same time rational. Even if he hurls back that blame, which he didn't, I mustn't provoke those feelings that bring back the hell days of his life with me. And when I did, it just tames me like a whip to a wild tiger.
Later on, I had pull the plug.
