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Category Archives: The Viking

No sooner had it begun, it was time to say goodbye. We got along well and there was something there between us, I dare even say that I love The Viking but perhaps there were more things we had on congruence than in common; and though that may not necessarily be a deterrent to a good, nay, great relationship, sometimes it becomes the deciding factor when you have to “reassess your options.”

Though our relationship didn’t start out with love at first sight or with butterflies fluttering in your stomach when you accidentally touch, it was ours and it was something else. Objectively speaking, The Viking is a great guy who has his shit together and knows what he wants in life, more or less. He has never hesitated to do something he wanted to do, not because he thought that was what the world wanted him to do, but because he wanted to do it. Perhaps this may steamroll over some people’s beliefs but I would like to believe that his independence in thought is somewhat admirable. Very few can actually tell the world what they want without fear of their dreams getting crushed or being judged so cruelly. Sure, the man has flaws, but don’t we all?

Perhaps I am only now feeling the great depression of having to let him go that I have enough balls to write about it. Or maybe it’s the bad combination of Mickey D’s and late night internet surfing. Whatever the reason is, and no matter how badly The Viking and I have left things off, he will always be this fascinating creature that just defied all emotion and ran on logic. That is, until he met me. But before he made that huge mistake, he really did teach me a thing or two. And I have never learned so much in such short a span of time.

1. The Viking used to say, “Know yourself.” Simply put, know what you want in life, what you’re willing to compromise, and what are your non-negotiables. And then, get ready to stand by the consequences of your actions. (Yeah, I know. I’m not original. Sue me.) But it does make for a much better guideline than having to be swayed by the tide of the status quo. If you feel that your priorities are changing or shifting, then by all means, change them. You don’t have to answer to anybody but yourself.

2. The Viking used to say, “Don’t play mind games.” This rule especially applied to areas of physical intimacy. You do it because you want to and not because you’re using it as some weapon to gain something else such as compassion or sympathy. I think people are too insecure about themselves (me, included) that we hide behind so many other reasons. Why not just accept the fact that you want what you want and want it without shame?

3. The Viking used to say, “The “Why” is important.” In doing ANYTHING, you must know the reason for your actions. If they are for good or for your own happiness, by all means do it. When you run into the sticky situation though of murder due to sheer hatred, perhaps you might want to rethink using hatred as a justifiable reason. But for everything else that does not end in death or serving time behind bars, “why”, the basic, self-sufficient, and most insightful interrogative mono-syllabic sentence, might be able to guide you through some of your doubt-filled forks in the road. Know why, know you.

4. The Viking used to say, “You are in charge of your experience.” Again, with his history, he is referring to those of a more carnal nature. This is really more like an offshoot of “Know yourself,” but in a more physically intimate manner. If you don’t know how you GENERALLY like it, how your body works, and the rituals that gets you “there,” then you simply cannot assume that someone COMPLETELY different from you is going to know it. Of course, it goes without saying that sharing this act with someone you love or have that connection with just heightens all of the sensations more. But to save both of you the trouble of fumbling around, know yourselves. And then slowly introduce yourselves to each other. It cuts the work by 50%.

5. The Viking used to say, “I love you.” And now he won’t be anymore.

There were no more words left to be said. I no longer had any energy left to cry. The room was filled with nothing but the humming of the airconditioner, broken only by his footsteps walking across the floor, and the occasional thud of things being thrown around. This wasn’t our first rodeo, we KNEW that this moment would eventually fall upon us. I silently gathered my things, glancing at his figure that was either packing or in a state of emotional distress. He would slump over the desk, over his computer or pause on the way to the bathroom and regain breaths as if the air was speckled with courage and the more he took into his lungs, the braver he was going to get.

I slowly fixed my hair, toying with unimportant things as if doing them with utmost care was going to make this sinking feeling go away. That maybe, if I just focus of doing something tiny, my heart would not burst out of my chest. We crossed paths, both grabbing things and throwing them into our own bags. Sometimes we could not help the emotions welling up that we connect for a few seconds, savor the last minutes we had together in what little time we had. We held onto each other hard, and then let go.

Meaningless small talk was the most we could muster. “Have you got everything?”, “Are we going to make it in time?”, “Are you taking this with you?”, “I’ll just have to pass by the front desk.”, or “I’m fine.” We exchanged painful glances knowing that anything could trigger waterworks any minute. I had never wished for traffic so badly, or for Spain to suddenly break out into war; anything beyond our control to make this last. But we both knew that if this was to last, then it would be by our choice, not some crazy, random happenstance.

The silence in those last moments before we set out to the world was a foreshadowing of what is going to be a month-long sabbatical from everyone else’s opinion. *Now that I don’t *have* anyone, please excuse me as I meet with more important people, me, myself, and I.

At Trinoma

The Viking: Hey, look at that dude.
Uneditedmara: *looks to where The Viking is pointing*
The Viking: *starts laughing* OMG. That dude is so fucking high and just stumbling in and out of stores. That. Is. So. Funny.
Uneditedmara: *lets The Viking have this moment. For now*
The Viking: Oh look! He’s stubbling towards some woman sitting over there! He’s practically sprawled on the floor! And why is he wearing all black?? HAHAHAHHAHAHAH!
Uneditedmara: *smiles at The Viking*

Ladies and gentlemen, that was The Viking’s swift brush with a local ROCK LEGEND, Pepe Smith.

The Viking broke up with me.

I’ve finally told The Viking.

During the night-day-night-day-long sob session, it might have not been my winningest moment but I need to acknowledge that I am so lucky for The Viking be logical about the whole situation. I might not agree with what The Viking says all of the time and some of it may hurt me just a liiiiiitle too much, but he’s never said anything that wasn’t true or based on facts. I need to appreciate that even though he might punch a little below the belt sometimes. We’re all entitled to a few illegal jabs, especially at this turning point.

The Viking has given me two weeks. Pretty generous if you consider that those fists could have landed on my face and not the wall or he could have just said, “Fuck this shit and fuck you.” To have been in an eerily reminiscent situation affords me the knowledge that, 1) it’s on, 2) it’s going to get worse before it gets better, and 3) it doesn’t get better immediately after you decide. “Better” is going to take a while.

What’s it gonna take?

1. From the warring countries, time and space.

2. From you, shitloads of advice and understanding.

3. From the bartender, MANY bottles of beer and his friends, Jack, Jim, Johnny, and Jose.

“Some choices we live not only once but a thousand times over, remembering them for the rest of our lives.” – Richard Bach

What do you want to order?

Ahdunno. What’s good here?

Lots, by the looks of the menu.

Oh yeah. Ooooh. I want everything! Like .. just a big serving of .. FOOD.

*laughs* Alright, alright. Want me to order for you?

*drops menu, grins*

We’d like to order the sun-dried tomato pesto and chicken pasta thingie, a pepperoni and cheese pizza, and the colossal chocolate chip cookie for dessert.

– After 40 minutes of eating and moaning and savoring every bite –

How’d you like it?

It was amazing. Like .. really, really amazing. *grins, blushes*

Er .. okay .. ? I’m glad you liked it then.

*giggles*

***

FACT: Feeding a Viking would turn him into a giggling, blushing little schoolgirl.

It’s been two months since The Viking’s arrival and it has been nothing but an emotional roller coaster. Enduring 6 months of separation, crossing continents, a spontaneous week at Hong Kong, and endless nights talking online has finally gotten The Viking to my shores.

You’d think it’d be like the honeymoon period where we would hole ourselves up, disappear from the world, and just enjoy being with each other again. But because it’s a relationship with ME, things tend to get shitty pretty fast, too soon. There were petty fights and big fights. A handful sugarcubes of sweetness and a sea of salty tears. An afternoon filled with playful caresses and twinkling laughter and an evening wrought with exhausting arguments. It was all of that and more.

Oh dear God.

It was so hard to handle being with someone who has no idea of how to be a boyfriend or knew how things went in a relationship. On one hand, it was wonderful to be the one to guide him through to find his own relationship style, but on the other, I was so GODDAMNED TIRED of always having to be the one to do it. It’s difficult to get mad at someone who doesn’t have much life experience, may gatas pa sa labi. He was so naive and innocent of the pitfalls of being a couple. The Viking was equally frustrated with me as I’m stubborn as a mule and like things done MY way. I assumed he could read minds, but as we all know, boys lack that talent to read between the lines, infer from your tone, choice of words, facial expression, body language, and magically come up with what’s bugging you.

But despite all the bitterness and yelling and arguing and backseat driving and crying (GOOD GOD, A LOT OF CRYING), there are the days where things are good, nay, GREAT. I have to hand it to The Viking, for someone who hasn’t been in a relationship for a decade, he sure knows how to spoil a girl. And I mean, SPOIL A GIRL. Let’s not let our imaginations go overboard and him on an imaginary spending spree at Shangri-La. Not that kind. This love is shown through action. He’d GLADLY cook dinner AND do the dishes. He’d make my bed AND give me a massage. He’d drive me around AND let me be a backseat driver. Not that he likes the latter part, but he just lets me go nuts criticizing him and not say anything because he UNDERSTANDS that I like doing things MY way and that I just get upset he’s not driving like he was playing Grand Theft Auto. He’d offer to park the car in Parking Hell that is Makati AND bring me lunch since I’m too busy at work to pick up anything. (Yes, he knows I do nothing but Facebook and Twitter the whole day, but that doesn’t diminish his efforts to lessen hassles for me.) I *have* taken advantage of some of his offers, but I have not abused any of them.

For you, he might sound like hired help, but he insists that making me less neurotic is his pleasure. And I, in my own odd and questionable ways, do show my love for him. I may not hang on to his arm and gaze up adoringly at him while listening intently on every word at every conversation, but who needs that when you wake up to a plateful of bacon, sausages, toast, rice, butter, juice, pancakes, honey syrup, blueberries, and a steaming cup of coffee?

Love. It’s making itself comfortable here.

I stepped on the gas pedal and swerved upwards and through all the curves of the mountain side. There was a fight to be fought and I was determined to come out as the winner. There was NO WAY IN HELL that someone could insult me with such phrases as “has to go back to school to learn basic manners” and shorter ones such as “slut” and come out of it unscathed.

As I got there, we sat on opposite chairs and talked. Calmly. How he had felt before the argument, during, after, and then days after. I sat there, legs and arms crossed, head tilted, rendering little to no facial expression. Sometimes my eyebrow would raise in protest or a smirk would escape my lips but no so much as a peep until he finished his ‘speech.’ When something in particular irked me, I just dug my fingernails into my arms and reminded myself that I would soon get my turn and that every word he spoke could be used against him in the court of relationships.

And just as I had thought, his concerns were the ones I had anticipated. My turn came and I had to speak in the same manner as he did, not rising a decibel higher, always with logic and never with fiery emotions. I couldn’t stop thinking why there was no yelling and screaming, that someone should be insulting the other party at this point. All the while, I had been preparing myself for a battle, when in fact, this was a peace talk. I’ve never been here before. It seemed pointless then and no one had really offered that alternative. The only option was to go in there, guns a’blazin’.

We sat and talked all night long. It was exhausting and emotionally draining. We were tired but successful. We walked away from that knowing each other a little better. The relationship is still in the early stages and no one’s gunning for perfection. No lofty dreams here. We just both wanted a little consideration and patience from the other. All I know is, the next time there’s a fight, I can yell all I want as long as I kept talking. Sounds like a plan.

*hits reset fight button*

I could drink myself to a stupor, cuss like a sailor, fuck like there’s no tomorrow, be lewd and inappropriate in public, and be absolutely unedited in almost all aspects of my life. I’m used to getting my way or just doing things by myself. I don’t have to consult anyone or ask for their opinion. I could party the week away or lock myself up at home and do absolutely nothing but flip through the television. The times, they are a’changin’. I’ve been by myself for so long that I think I may have forgotten the very carefully choregraphed dance of being in a couple.

The Viking and I may just have had our first serious fight and all I can think of is, “Well, if this isn’t going my way, then fuck this shit.” That’s a bad sign, isn’t it? The Bestfriend has already scolded me for being a brat. She knows me so well. Even without volumes of stories on how I can easily break down anyone’s spirit, she knows that my mean streak is HELLA mean.

I don’t like talking about my feelings and certainly not good at making up after a fight. I’m thisclose to calling it quits. But I won’t. The Viking may have had valid points in his argument but he can be quite stubborn and narrow-minded. He wouldn’t dream of even considering my arguments. There is no talking to someone like that. He is not receptive to creating a discussion. He’s right, I’m wrong, show’s over.

The Tipping Point was when I realized it was already 6 AM, had been up all night, and had to go to work in a couple of hours. Shouldn’t there be some sort of consideration for people who actually have to get up and go to a real office? No, seriously. Waking me up to TALK ABOUT FEELINGS is not cool. NOT. COOL. AT. ALL. And then talking about an issue that was already resolved HOURS ago? And then be kept up ALL NIGHT LONG?? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME???

I NEED SLEEP. And to anyone who thinks they can jerk me off and rob me of the few hours I have will see the fiery pits of hell. Guess which dumbass decided it was fun to keep me awake. THAT’S RIGHT. I may not have said everything I’ve wanted to say and sufficiently screamed but I’m working through it.

At this point in time, I just want to resolve the fucking issue already. I don’t need cryptic messages or secret emails to my other friends. If we fight, we fight face to face. None of this bullshit. I tried to be nice, but it’s seems as if it’s going to get worse before it gets better. I’ve been bruised, battered, and worn, nothing hurts anymore. YOU WANT TO FIGHT? BRING IT.

“Only after disaster can we be resurrected.”

- Tyler Durden

Whenever The Viking goes down to the store, there are these .. erm .. kids (maybe pre-pubescent boys) that like sorta hassle him or talk to him and stuff. They’re nice enough but you can see they’re trouble makers. One time, they asked him for cigarettes and he gave them some and after they took it, they scattered away. They’re your typical ruffians just out to hang around in the streets.

When he went down to the store again a while ago, the kids were there and they were shouting at him, “Gilette! Gilette!”

All because ..

Good job, Gilette. You’ve got a good branding in Turkey. And by the looks of it, you’ve got your work cut out to get this mess sorted out.

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