Why God Forbid Perfection

October 14, 2008 at 7:15 am (tales of the boyfs) (, , , )

I was hanging out with TheRock, EngineerBoy, and Darna, EngineerBoy’s girlfriend and one of my classmates from medical school, at this nice little café for some drinks and coffee (for TheRock who didn’t drink alcohol).

 

“So, [mistress], how come you and TheRock never hooked up?” Darna asked me.

 

TheRock and I laughed, me, slightly with discomfort.

“Yeah,” EngineerBoy chimed in. “I mean, you’re bestfriends, you always hang out with each other, you’re both open-minded. Imagine if you two were a couple, and the four of us would be double-dating all the time. Wouldn’t that be just sweet?”

 

“Yeah, I mean, seriously, TheRock, weren’t you ever interested in [mistress]?”

 

“She’s a girl, you’re a boy. She’s nice, you’re nice. She’s smart, you’re smart. She’s good-looking, you’re very rich,” EngineerBoy joked and we all laughed at his attempt to make fun of TheRock’s looks. TheRock was not that easily offended thankfully.

 

He just grinned and said one of the most profound things I have ever heard him say in his entire life, “You know, God does not allow perfection.”

 

We all laughed.

 

“If [mistress] and I fell inlove with each other and became a couple, it would have been perfect. We would have been so good for each other that it would be the perfect kind of relationship. But we wouldn’t be fighting with each other at all and it would be so boring, so God said, this is too perfect, I wouldn’t allow this. Thus, he made sure that perfection should be forbidden and thus, he gave [mistress] the most un-perfect boyfriend in the form of Rockstar, whom she constantly keeps fighting with. Hence, the reason why [mistress] and I never hooked up.”

 

Of course, TheRock was simply making an attempt to make light of our situation.

 

But still, somehow, as crazy as it sounded, it did make sense.

 

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Can You Smell What TheRock Is Cookin’?

October 14, 2008 at 6:58 am (i am therefore i flirt) (, , , )

I was in my 4th year of college when a good friend of mine whom I’ve known for a long time asked me out on a date.

I will fondly refer to him as TheRock.

TheRock was a classmate of mine from highschool. He was rich, friendly, flirty, not much in the looks department but always very fun to be with. He had this thing in highschool wherein every night, he would call me and about four other girls in my class and chat with each one of us on the phone about school, our classmates or just anything under the sun. He has always been a little flirty for as long as I can remember but because I didn’t know if half of what TheRock is saying is true or just something he made up to make me laugh, I never really took him that seriously.
Well, none of us five girls did actually.

When I left for college in the big city, he also took up his in another city away from home. Every vacation, we’d both go home back to our hometown and he would call me up at home as soon as he arrives. I began to look forward to his calls because he was funny and really knew how to crack me up. Plus, when the two of us are together, there just aren’t any silent moments.

He called me by a special pet name, the name only my family calls me, as if he was a member of my family as well.

Christmas break, year 2000. TheRock has started spoiling me. I would only joke about wanting to eat balut (duck egg) at the Boulevard and he’d be like, “Okay, go and change now. I’ll be there to pick you in an hour so we can go.” Or I’d be talking to him on the phone and I’d be saying something like, “I miss eating pizza. I haven’t had one in a long time,” and a few hours later, he’ll be at our house, and we’ll be eating from the box of Greenwich pizza that he bought for me. I figured, he was just being sweet, and considering that he and I have always been close, I didn’t think of it that much.

Until the day he tells me that he likes me.

“I really like you, [mistress].”

“Hey, I like you too, TheRock.”

“I mean, as more than a friend.”

Silence on my part. The sound of cicadas rubbing their legs.

“Hey, say something.”

“I… Well… I don’t know, TheRock…I, ahmmm…”

“Listen, I know you’re probably still not completely over your boyfriend and we’ve been good friends for quite some time so I’m sure you probably know by now that I respect you and I have nothing but good intentions for you. It’s just that I think we’ll be good together and if I don’t at least try then, I might regret it someday. And I don’t want this to be one of the things I’ll always wonder about.”

I smiled. “Okay, you got me there.”

“So, how about it? Would you like to go out with me on a date?”

I bit my lip. “Okay.”

So, considering that I was already 20 years old at that time, already with two boyfriends and one serious relationship on my belt, I assumed my parents would finally allow me to go out on a date.
Well, I assumed wrong.

When I told my parents that I would be going out on a date with TheRock, they totally flipped out. First of all, because TheRock was a Muslim. Apparently, despite living in a town where half of the population practice the Islam faith, the proximity of living with our Muslim brothers has done nothing to make them rethink about their bigotry.

“Who is this boy? You don’t know how different Muslim boys are from those who are like us. What if he’ll take advantage of you, put something in your drink when you have your back on him and then, rape you or something? [Mistress], they are not like us. They are different. They’re so much more dangerous.”

So, are you saying all the rapists and criminals in jail are Muslims? I wanted to tell them but instead, I kept my mouth shut out of respect.

Second, my mother had equated a simple date to going steady. How archaic can you get! Like one date with the guy and I’m already going to find myself inlove with him and wanting to marry him? I got annoyed with her and I ended up yelling out angrily, “I’m only going out with him on one date. One date! I’m NOT marrying him!”

Personally, I think my parents basically gave me a hard time about that date because I spent majority of my dating experiences at the big city, away from my parents. This was going to be the first time that they were actually going to experience what most parents dread – waiting impatiently at home for your daughter to come home, knowing that she has gone off on a date with some boy who hopefully, will not take advantage of her.

Anyway, after all the drama, my parents and I compromised by agreeing to bring someone along with us on our date. Thankfully, they agreed when I finally told them that one of our highschool classmates, FutureDoctor, will be joining us. So, TheRock picked FutureDoctor up at her house and together, they picked me up at my house. I made sure that my parents saw both of them before we headed out to TheRock’s car. In the flurry of nervousness, TheRock and I totally forgot the customary You-look-nice-So-do-you crap that first dates are supposed to have. I did notice though that he smelled really nice, which, of course, he usually did.

We then brought FutureDoctor back to her house – Seriously, you didn’t really think we’d be bringing her along with us! – and then, alone at last, we finally headed out to start our date.

TheRock brought me to this really romantic quiet restaurant away from town. He ordered a lot of food, we had great conversation and we laughed a lot. But the thing with being on a date with someone you’ve known for a long time is that you’re way past that certain imaginary line that divides friendship and a potential love interest. I didn’t feel the particular need to put my best foot forward nor did I feel any butterflies in my stomach. I admit, I wanted to feel the butterflies and fall inlove with him. But nothing happened. I couldn’t really look back anymore and say “Hmmm… I think I’d like to kiss him tonight.” That just does not happen. If that certain sexual chemistry wasn’t there in the first place, then, in my case, it usually doesn’t pop out at all.

The date was perfect, the company even better, but I really couldn’t lie to myself and say that I could find myself falling madly inlove with him. Afraid to destroy the magic of the moment, I kissed him on the cheek when he brought me home. A bittersweet ending, for my part, in exchange for a great night. A kiss he had misconstrued as a possibility.


The next time we saw each other, he was picking me up as we were about to attend our annual highschool reunion. I told him he was a great friend, one of my best-est of friends, but I was afraid that if we got into a relationship, I might only hurt him. He said he’ll be patient with me. But I knew right then and there that it was a lost cause. I spent the rest of the night flirting with another classmate of ours who previously courted me in highschool, EngineerBoy, sneaking for a quick smoke and exchanging rowdy remarks with the girls, even Frenchkissing one sexually-confused classmate of ours as part of a dare, and getting pissing drunk. I didn’t even notice that TheRock, who doesn’t drink, had left the party to meet another one of our classmates who did not want to attend the reunion.

He didn’t even say goodbye. I felt slightly insulted that he brought me to the party and left me to fend for my ride home on my own. Maybe it was his way of getting back at me. I don’t know. Up to this day, I never did ask him why he left that way.

The next day, he called me up and it was like the past few days never happened. We were laughing and talking like good friends, the way we used to, before all this business about liking me more than a friend came about. It was like he had never considered seriously dating me. We continually remained good friends, and after college, when everybody went back home, because of me, he and EngineerBoy even became really good friends as well. At that time, the three of us had become quite a pair and I felt so blessed, just being in the company of my two favorite boys in the whole world.

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