Appointment #2

So I told everything, from the first time we met in 1998, to that suspicious receipt from Bugsy's in 2008. [Not really everything yet, because on my way home, I remembered some incidents (bringing Chai to our house, spending New Year's Eve with Charm, etc) which I failed to mention.]


I was asked if D ever told me what he loved about me. And through the haze of the 10 years we spent together, I could only remember him saying one thing:

"He said he loved my smile".

You know that's something superficial, right?

A pause. Any traits, or things that you do that he said he likes about you?

I smiled sadly. "No, I don't remember".

Because I don't think he ever said anything.


Was it really love?

Especially the first year we were together, because that was just the two of us (no pregnancy, no obligation, no pressure to be together). I know it wasn't really love in the beginning of our relationship, but what was it between all the sex and sneaking out, a few months later? What made him stay with me even if my mother was giving us a hard time? Why was I worth the effort of staying in the relationship? Was I (only) that good in sex?

What were those letters for? Why were there flowers for no special occasion? Why did he always make sure I got home safe? Why did he spend time with me not having sex?

Why was he there? And why did I let him be there?


And so, telling all these stories, from the kilig moments, to our escapades, to getting pregnant, moving in together, getting married, and basically fucking things up, from how such a random introduction turned into a real-life tele-novela, could I honestly say there was love between us then, a love that was for the persons that we were -- pure, selfless, unadulterated, sincere and true love?

Considering how miserable we were together 10 years after, I guess not.

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