his house

March 6, 2005 at 6:20 pm | Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

marylou’s back in town, and it seems she’ll be around for quite some time before heading off to whereever again. and she had a blowout last friday at outback libis, before we headed off to herbert’s pad where we passed away midnight as she officially turned 27.

and headed towards that place i hadn’t even thought about the things it would make me think about. that is, until i had the bag of lemons in my hand and chips and beer in another that it finally struck me. this is his house.

i used to see him in the media center. i thought he was cute, even without buns. i had expressed an interest in him, and made no small secret about it to friends like che.

in any case, as we walked up the building to the third floor, it wasn’t even him i was thinking of. herbert is quick to inform me that he’s on an assignment. a fact i quickly ignore.

as we walked in, i set down the bags on the table and excused myself to go to the bathroom. inside, i finally remembered. and in a manner so blatant i just had to laugh to myself. on the shelves was an empty bottle of lavender-scented body gel with a thin cut of masking tape with his name on it, and around his name were cute circles of flowers with itsy-bitsy petals in crude pentel pen ink.

i make my way back to the receiving area where marylou is chatting up sunshine, and i pass off a compliment about how spacious and relaxed the condo unit looks, with the high ceiling and the wide walls. ‘it’s just the lack of furniture,’ sunshine points out but i disagreed. it was really a nice place, even if stuff were all over the place, like two forlorn paintings on either side of the tv where sunshine was watching a movie she is editing.

marylou sat next to me and was updating me and sunshine about the ex, and thomas propped down on the other end of the japanese table where a wooden chess set herbert bought in jordan laid unopened against a bowl made of coconut husk cradled a handful of candies and mint.

herbert, meanwhile busied himself with mixing the ca?haca – Brazilian rhum, with lemons and ice and sugar. He serves us three glasses – for the boys, and the five of us spend the night away chatting up in his house.

i got tipsy after three servings of cachaca, and bid farewell. party pooper that i am, marylou and thomas decided they were not about to let me go home on my own. and so we bid sunshine and herbert goodbye, and down the stairs we went back, and all i kept thinking was — so that was his house, hisbedroom, his bathroom, his dishes, his table, his mattress, his chair, his tv, his phone, his kitchen sink, his shoe rack, his pillow…

but for whatever reason, all i could think about was how i wanted him instead to bring me down and i would kiss him halfway through the stairs.

and i’m not talking about the absent housemate on an assignment. nor do i refer to marylou’s boyfriend.

much much later, in a moment of clarity, i figured: i have too much pride. and i’ve eaten too much of my own words in the past to ever go back and eat some more. 1999 was a dream away, and i want it to stay that way.


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