Our Story Untold

I woke up this morning with the biggest grin on my face, seeing my newly waxed leg on your bulging stomach. Oh, how funny it is, for the night before I made you do the regimen after beating you in a game of cards, poker that is, in three straight rows. I dunno if I was just lucky enough. But I would like to believe I am good at it, modesty aside. And I never wanna entertain the thought that you just let me win! You are good at almost anything, you know. My superman.

Of all the many things you are good at, I am amazed in the way you handle someone like me – sensitive, idealistic & vain. Maybe you are just like me, too, as we often try to understand why we clicked. Maybe it’s just us having same interests and perceptions in life or maybe we’re both too empathetic. I really cannot tell, till now. I just know that at one point in our lives, we knew we really have something special together, that understanding – which not only the two of us felt.

I looked at the corner of your room, just a little above the bookshelf, and sighed to myself. “Ah, there it is”. It’s nothing but our picture taken just a week ago, together with the dogs, on one of our jogging trips. I insisted you replace our formal studio pic, for it is too old school. And you just as obediently followed without much question, replacing our rehearsed smiles with the natural ones. That’s what I really liked about you, my superman. For you just let me be. One time, you joked about liking the fact of putting me in authority, though for most part of your life, you always wanna be the one in-charge.

I reached out for your big hand and stroked it, admiring that it is one of a hard worker. Not the manual laborer’s kind of appeal, but still a hard worker’s hand. I smiled. Your dark complexion matches my fair one pretty well. I never thought I would be this fair, comparing to the younger me in college, where we didn’t have a knack for each other then. For a couple of times last night you asked, “Will you ever be sun-kissed again?” And we both laughed, recalling our snorkeling in Coron, where I admittedly forgot to bring enough sunblock to survive the violent UV rays. We both ended up with that “burnt look” for weeks. More so for you, my moreno-turned-negro lover! ‘Twas really funny. And for countless times you had to assure me that I still look OK – me with the “burnt look” in my corporate dress.

You surprised me with a kiss on my left cheek. “Good morning, muffins.”

To be continued…