It’s been a pretty rough delusion-ship (I made that up for the sake of this narrative) journey in my adult life. I have fallen in love with far too many men (or guys – not sure yet what’s more appropriate here) that never really were my boyfriend. Funny thing is, I got brokenhearted.. and we were not even a couple.
Let me enumerate here all those men (or guys, whatever) who broke my heart and never bothered to know it..
Who would forget M—-?
I got C—–.
Then finally, A—-!
The Common Thread
These men are/were my friends.
There’s M—- who at an early adult age lost his father and became his family’s support. He works like a horse–so focused, his vision is beyond scary (at times) but up until today, he’s the one taking care of his mother and sees his closest workmates his family. I have never liked a man for his tough exterior but with so much soft heart for the people he considers his family, until I liked M—-.
The only way I would really “love” a guy is when I know him, and admire him for what he is. C—– is a very good dancer which I admire about him the most, but over and above, he is a family man. His sister had a baby and got stood up by her boyfriend. C—– took responsibility in taking care of the baby, and even when his sister died years ago, he still takes care of the child.
A—- is very much comfortable sharing with me his family dynamics and struggles, and as I see how he handles his weird relationship with his father, but I always admire him in the way he takes care of his mother. He would always assure her of things that his mom worries about. A—- is younger than I am, but in his being a good, family man, I’ve always felt he’s much older; kinda feel safe around him.
M in my teens
I first met M—- in college.
I never wanted to join the Student Council, but hearing him talk about the significance of having a line up of leaders that would protect the students’ welfare initially pushed me into running for a university-wide position. I was always scared of doing things that I never got to do in our High School, but M—- being the leader that he is, would ease our worries. He always has a way to persuade me, and lead me into the “light.”
I used to call him “Kuya” (older brother) because he would give that vibe, but I know, his smell always lingers in the office like how I would have my thoughts about him. This guy can make an entire student body to boycott classes, and join a demonstration. He would only hold a megaphone, stand on a table and scream at the top of his lungs until students better understand why fighting for a no-tuition fee increase is important. He never have to say that he is brave, because you would hear in his voice and in his tough acts of facing and talking to high profile individuals in the government, just so he can assert the students and mass’ rights.
I have never fallen in love with much bravery until M—- showed that it was possible. When he’s around, everyone feels safe. Everyone knows that no one can hurt them. M—- would give off that energy. He never has to ask me twice of things he’d want me to do. Tasks in the student council, letters for demonstration, coordination with the university OIC.. you name it. He just had to say it, and I’ll do it.
But things went the other way around when I decided I never want to do something anymore. He wanted me to run for a higher student council post, but I declined. When I was telling him I no longer concede with what he wants, I was afraid. I was afraid I might disappoint him–it’s the last thing I intend to happen. But I loved him even more when he said he respects my decision. He was not mad, but he was considerate of what I want.
He was really a different cut of a brave guy, I thought to myself.
C in my 20s
C—– and I were once classmates at a course in college. I didn’t notice him till I knew more of him in our workplace. We became colleagues. We were basically batch mates as we got employed in an institution. Although we were from different departments, we would have activities and tasks we would do together as rookies. We were always part of the dance troupe where I started liking him because he is one damn good dancer. If there was any fantasy I had with him, that is to do a dance rendition of the song Build a Home.
Our friendship started flourishing when we would go to work together. Our school is around 5-10 minutes walk from the gate of the exclusive subdivision in NCR. I live around the area, and he from another city. We would message each other in the morning and would agree to wait at the gate, so we could walk together. That was plenty of mornings where we would update of each other’s life. I grew fonder of him as I get to know more his family. I even met his sister, and his nephew became my godson.
What we have deepened when we faced a tragic family incident that involved his sister. He loves his sister deeply, and he would do anything for her. The poor sister got pregnant for a second time. This was a life-threatening event for her, because she has heart problems, and giving birth is only going to worsen it. Lo and behold, C—– called me one night, saying he’s at a hospital at a nearby city, and that he needs a friend. Well, that’s all I ever was to him (to all of them). So I went there, I made sure to make him feel he’s not alone. We were both mourning over a box which I held closely, as it contains the fetal remains of the baby. His sister had a serious miscarriage, and was confined at the hospital. We spent the night trying to laugh–this is the same guy I went to Hundred Islands with that I had a long ride of laughter with all the way from Tarlac to Pangasinan.
C—– has always been the funnier one between us. He knows how to make me laugh, and we jive with each other’s humor. But that night of talking at the hospital, as we try to make each other pull an all-nighter, I know it was that moment I loved him even more.
This man knows how to love his family, I thought to myself.
A in my 30s
I never liked a younger guy in the past.. up until I met A—-.
Our first encounter was a Q&A where I asked something and he said, “Not that I know of..” I was taken aback. This boy knows his grammar.
But beyond his English comms ability, our convos turned into a usual-to-daily thing and kwentuhan. We would talk about work, our thoughts (which at first I found amusing when we discuss and argue about it), personal things, et cetera. Our usual chats would become a comfortable video call and I never realized I started liking him, until he went to our town, and he slept in my place. I love having him around, because I don’t feel he is younger. When we talk, I feel I am more submissive than how I would usually be to a boy (or guy).
I confessed to A—- how I felt; he rejected. I pushed; he again rejected. Until we had a gap where we won’t talk unless for work, but time came when he has personal struggles and I called him, asked how he was.. and it rekindled the convo; relapsed the whole thing. I first hated A—- when he broke my heart, but this guy would’ve been a really good friend had I not fallen in love with him. His curiosity (which I hate now) and being overly-obsessed to the littlest details (which makes me cringe now) are qualities I used to like about him. I could spend hours and hours talking to him. We would even go out to eat (nothing romantic, I realized later on) and spend time talking the whole night. I was never sure if our moments were good experiences, or I was just really starved of such connections.
There’s honesty in the way A—– would comment on things. We could openly discuss how he feels when things are not good in his household. I was drawn to him even more, when he allowed me into the privacy of his very own life. I have always loved the connection we made with each other. I never really wanted to have children with any of the partners I had, but liking A—– made me consider bearing a child. I saw a good man in him.
He would make a good father, I thought to myself.
Different guys, same heartbreaks
None of these men (or guys) liked me.
Although there was never really a blunt discussion of how I feel for them, one thing is clear, they rejected me as a possible life mate. They remained my friends, and it took me sometime to move on from each of them.
I distant myself from C—– for quite some time because he was pushing that I play Cupid to him and my bestfriend.
It took me a year to accept a work opportunity which might put me into closer contact with M—-.
I had to let myself “die and resurrect” so I could get over from the results of A—- recurring rejection of me.
They say heartbreaks don’t choose age, after all. Whoever said that.. they’re right. In every chapter of my adulthood, I have fallen in love with the same pattern of men, and would end up in the same situation: rejected, alone, heartbroken.
Did I ever curse them? Probably.. I could barely remember.
Would I want them still in my life? They still are, but in a varying degree of importance already.
Can I still recall how it felt like loving them, doing all that would make them feel loved or admired? Absolutely, not. Now, they are all part of such memories of lined up men I used to like. I used to love. I used to hate.
None of those feelings I remember now. #
theWAISwoman 💪 
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