...une femme seule.
Finding yet another space to think, to breathe, here I am. Really, this is a detour created by necessity and conflict. I was the unwitting victim, I tell you.
But is it possible that this is just what the doctor prescribed?
*apologies to the Indigo Girls, of course.
Posted by petit_secousse at 02:57 AM | yes?
First "event" for the day: I got locked in the studio. Now how screwed-up is that? Poor Alan, after lugging more than nine kilos of weight around from Cubao to V.Luna (not very far, but in this weather? an act of penitence, and it's only Thursday!), had to go searching abandoned streets for (1) a locksmith to wreck the damned lock (2) replacement padlocks. Haggardness, truly.
And me, well I had just awakened, was a bit sweaty from the blistering noon heat, and was looking every single inch the dugyot girl I dreaded. Not flattering at all, and here was Alan, perspired but still quite fresh (kainis, i don't know how he does that). Murphy was so out to get me today, I swear.
But oh, dear. After calling the office to explain my plight (i'm still brushing away suspicions that David was stifling a laugh), ruining the back gate's padlock, and lugging the 9-kilo package Alan brought for me from the top of the spiral stairs to the other side of the building (those familiar with the studio set-up will understand how all the more dugyot-inducing this is), I thought I was doomed to a depressing score card: Murphy - 3, Noelle - 0.
Not so. My guardian angel brought me back in the running, with somewhat successful carpentry attempts resulting in a small, but very treasured bookshelf Alan and I assembled together. It's so thrillingly domestic, isn't it?
The L-word still hasn't been mentioned, at least not in reference to each other, but the elusiveness of the word belies the tangible proof of its existence. This boy, he is so taking care of me.
In "Walk Down the Road," Cynthia Alexander croons, "My heart beats a special drum only for you..."
I've got an entire marching band here, if not the drums department of the UP Pep Squad, smack in the middle of my chest and my gut. My solar plexus is right about ready to implode.
Got to bond with the family, as well. The nephews love me, or at least like me enough to sit on my lap and call my name every ten seconds. Of course, everyone's concerned about the "status." Don't look at me, I have no idea either.
I brought him to the bus station this evening. Right now, he's on his way to Naga. All of a sudden, I wish I could tag along. Well, I suppose his big hug ang that sweet, sweet goodbye kiss ought to carry me along for now. See you in four days, he said. I can't wait.
Do I love him already? Oh, yes, now I'm sure I am.
He makes it impossible for me not to smile. 
Posted by petit_secousse at 03:16 AM | yes?
He's back from Naga!I was absolutely ecstatic to see him last night. I was right in the middle of ballroom class when Mac and Alan arrived. It was not very easy to concentrate on my leg line after that.
I want to belong to him. *sigh*
We had dinner with Michiko, Mac, and Kuya Brian -- we had the best laing I've ever had in my entire 23-year old life (and I'm not just saying this because it was his pasalubong, together with the toasted siopao <!>). He brought me to work after, as usual. At first, I was really disappointed because his Saturday was packed and it didn't look like we would be able to spend some quality time together. Later on, however, he decided not to attend his kendo class anymore, which would take all of three hours, excluding travel time to and from traffic-toxic Ortigas. Looks like we're still up for early Saturday morning ballroom class, though. No matter, because guess who my dance partner is?
He's so determined to learn ballroom dancing. Of course, he has to, because it's part of the syllabus he prepared for his students, but it looks like he actually appreciates it. This whole thing is making me glad.
I really should start talking about something other than my romantic effusions. It's really getting difficult to wipe off this goofy grin.
Posted by petit_secousse at 04:31 PM | yes?
I.
I got back from a beautiful weekend celebration yesterday, an eventful trip up in the mountains of Antipolo, where sightings of the bay and mountains on one hand, and indifferent but vibrant city lights on the other, come together with a testament to change, progress, and missed pasts.
It may have started out on a somewhat unpleasant note, with a seemingly endless wait (five hours, honestly!) and a frustrated, sobbing dancer hugging her legs, curled up on the edge of the dance floor. Then again, apologies and tight embraces are great prescriptions for grief and impatience. The disappointment melted away quickly; this dancer has a soft spot for sincerity and affection.She forgives completely.
Besides, not even pesky, arrogant cab drivers can destroy the peace of a night perfectly lit up with a careless scattering of stars and the secure grip of a warm hand like yours.
II.
This is water collected, enclosed in a cubic structure lined with smooth tiles. Hardly flowing, ripples just sort of exchanging places here and the not-so-distant there. Then you held me, and with closed eyes this has become the sea. An exercise in trust, you called it. The label was quite unnecessary.
We were barely touching, just a fingertip, it seemed, beneath the small of my back, but how you caressed the water and the air surrounding me. I was free-floating in the endless uncertain but never more protected, blanketed by you, carried to the safety of shore.
III.
We do not wish to call it "love" yet. We are not sure what to call it, as we fall victim to the definitions of this world. For this moment, no labels. I understand completely. In this tentativeness, we fear the usual implications. And yet, look at what we have here, which we welcome with anticipation: possibility. So much of it, in fact, coupled with the natural affection and happiness that springs from our partnership. It makes me smile, it makes me afraid, it keeps me hopeful.
You ask me if I love you. I answer, that is precisely my problem, then again, not a problem at all. I fall prey to vulnerability, my angel. You can decide to hurt me now, and it will hurt, because I have already come to love you. And yet, it is with this same love that I gather my courage and stand firm beside you. Love (or its manifestations), after all, and no matter how cliché this may sound, is also a decision. I will never betray you, not even in my thoughts. That, I need you to trust in.
You ask me if I'm getting impatient. Maybe. But perhaps only because I so look forward to the day when we can declare ourselves no longer afraid.
IV.
Somebody asked me: "Despite the absence of 'commitment,' is it a partnership?" It is, you have shown me, it really is. Because there are romantic reveries but there are also real-life matters and concerns that need taking care of. Like padlocks that won't work and rooms lacking closets and bookshelves. Like accidents requiring medical attention, the need for toiletries, and the rush to avoid tardiness for work. There are relatives victimized by fire, cellphone-hunting trips, a persistent backache long-overdue for a check-up, and on-the-job annoyances.
I know that in spite of the seemingly mundane character of these concerns, we are sure to be able to count on each other for a lifeboat. We have pulled together, and are still continuing to do so, commitment or none. One day, the situation will require a definite stand, a certainty by way of title. For the moment, however, I am pleased with the strong foundation of an honest, affectionate friendship and a deeper willingness to hold each other's hand even (/especially) through the hassles and burdensome responsibilities. Nobody's going to be left hanging here; we are each other's safety net and security blanket.
And yes, when called upon to "partner up" in dance class, my eyes will definitely meet yours, with the sweetest of smiles.
Shall we?
V.
You touch me differently now.
You pull me close with both authority and warmth, our hands always instinctively meet in their comfortable clasp. You steal kisses and quick caresses as if you have to, you're not afraid to have us seen being affectionate with each other. We look at each other with secret knowledge, and you always, always make me smile.
I really think we can pull this thing off. Let's wait and see, Cho, I'm sure we'll find our answers soon enough.
"The more I'm with you,
The more it feels like:
This could be the beginning of something wonderful..."
(Beginning of Something Wonderful, Orange and Lemons)
Posted by petit_secousse at 03:04 AM | yes?
Kuya Brian checked out from East Avenue Medical Center this evening. I'm glad he's been able to recover quite speedily from that dreadful accident last Monday. He slipped and hit one of the studio's many sliding doors, and (scarily enough) broke one of them. The broken glass came crashing to the floor, and, well, some of them just happened to cut through skin.
Thank God for CHK grads. Alan, Michiko, and Mac speedily attended to Kuya Bri to administer first aid, while I ran upstairs to get towels. Nobody panicked -- we were all on auto-pilot. I didn't even cringe when, after holding up his arm for some time, I saw a pretty impressive, bright red pool of blood quickly dripping from my palm to my forearm. My pink skirt's red now, in fact.
The adrenaline had to subside sooner or later, though. Alan needed to take a breather, Mac turned sheet-white (doesn't he always? har har), and Loraine actually fainted in the hospital (yes, promptly after declaring, "hindi ako makahinga, hypoglycemic ako, kelangan ko ng sugar..."). Michiko and I contracted a fever some time after, even. It's almost hilarious how we all started getting ill to some degree.
So as I was saying, I'm glad Kuya Bri's much better. Of course, he still wasn't well enough to teach Ballroom this evening, so Rozzano took over. Which brings me to...
Samba: Confused, Confusing, "Animalistic." Grraoww.
Ganda, you should've been there this evening. You missed me blushing furiously from being "spotted" by such a sexxxxy dancer. Haha. He called samba "animalistic." Ay grabe. Ikaw lang talaga naalala ko.
At syempre, no time or space or tactlessness to swoon, as my boy was there (kahit late, na naman!), right behind me in fact. And syempre ulit, when he's there, kebs na sa ibang boys. I only pair up with one boy, even if we can't seem to chaissé the samba way properly (mawkish, mawkish, eew).
Cho, kelangan natin mag-practice ng samba!!!!! Rumba's getting better (we even have a routine already, sobrang landi), and we've caught the cha-cha-cha bug, but our hips were seriously confused this evening.
Thank goodness, the other aspects are starting to clear up. Samba's enough confusion for me, as easy as it seems.
* * * * * * * * * *
Thank you for your kindness and for never letting me fall far enough to hit myself. I always keep thinking I'm about to get bruised, but you've never let go of my hand.
I still can't tell what exactly's going to happen after the indefinite wait, but the signs are looking pretty good. Let's hope.
Posted by petit_secousse at 01:30 AM | yes?
