|Dance like no one is watching you. Love like you've never been hurt before. Self portrait. circa 2011|
Recently, I was asked by a very close friend if I’m praying for “the one” to finally “step forward” and finally “enter my life.” By the slight twitch in his mouth, I understand immediately we are to talk about my seemingly endless singlehood. Yet again. Of course, he was asking if I’m pleading to the heavens above for a partner to come. In all honesty, I answered a plain no.
Edward, my friend, said that maybe I should start praying for it. Sensing a topic to argue about, I retaliated and said I don’t think it’s a proper thing to ask God. I mean, how would a gay man like myself pray for a boyfriend to come, right? I added that whenever I pray, it is mostly that I try listen to God than me dictating what I want. Edward then said what I’m doing is not entirely wrong.
“My rabii told me that God, as our Father, wants to hear us telling Him the things we want despite knowing them already,” he said. “He wants you to open up to Him. And asking for that person who will make you happy, to be honest, is something you shouldn’t be ashamed off to ask from God.”
I smiled. It was almost the same thing my favorite priest, Fr. Nick, said in one of his sermons at the Cathedral. “Talk to Him,” he said. “Talk to Him the same way you would talk to your friends about the greatest desires of your heart. Your ambitions, the things that bother you, your pains, He wants to hear them straight from you. You are His child.”
In one of Kuya Joms’ blog entries before he left the “single men’s club,” he recounted how he would light a candle in a church, praying for that unknown special person that lies in the same unknown future. Praying not only for him to finally arrive, but for his safety and well-being. And then one day, JC arrives at his door.
Years ago, I thought my JC finally arrived. He left though for he couldn’t love me the way I wanted him. He went and chose the handsome Viscounts leaving a heavily scarred Phantom as myself. As I make my way then in the altar of Quiapo Church, dragging my knees in the cold granite aisle, I swore an oath to God that I will never ever ask for a JC anymore.
I am a renegade of love. Not that I don’t believe in it. I just left its battlefield. It’s a fight where I lost too many a times. And why not? It’s the noble thing to do for the defeated. After all, the winner takes it all, yes?
But even for the most wounded ones, sometimes, at times when you least expect it, hope would come knocking down your walls. Sometimes you get very lonely and would realize how tragically, no one stood up for you. That nobody fought for you, or at the very least, realize your best intentions. When lovers parade in front of you, you smile because you feel their happiness. But then you bleed inside. Because by then, you feel your loneliness. Sometimes you get very lonely. This is one of those.
I don’t want to pray for it. But not because I’m ashamed of God, or that I don’t know how to tell Him my desires, or tell Him “Lord malungkot na ‘ko at pagod na rin ako.” It’s just that I’m afraid even God would answer me “no.”
But in case that He changes His mind, I hope He’ll heed my call. That finally, He will give me the one for me I’ve waited for so long. I pray it’s soon.
My apologies for dragging Kuya Joms and JC's name in this whole literally farce (or to be honest, a sugar coated rant to God)