Love has been in the news this month, but not in a Happy Valentines kind of way. The protagonists in these love stories include the ambassador, his wife, her best friend and the maid; the actress, the actor and the magazine cover; and the mistress, the estranged wife and the dead man.
The heiress who is splitting up with the ambassador who cheated on her with her best friend and the maid.
1.1. Why end the marriage now when according to her deposition he’s been cheating on her for many years?
1.1.1. The extra horror of him betraying her with her best friend
1.1.2. The embarrassment of the public betrayal
1.1.2.1. Aggravated by the fact that in her desire to help her friend she had practically thrown her at her husband
When Love Goes Kaput, our column in InterAksyon.com this week.
Don’t you just love Love? As a concept it is unbeatable; it’s up there with language, the wheel and the flush toilet as humanity’s greatest invention. “I love you” sounds more poetic than “I biological imperative you”; less selfish than “My genes regard you as the finest available vehicle for their propagation and survival”; so much more flattering than “I am tired of being alone so I have decided to settle for whoever I happen to be with at this moment and that’s you”; less materialistic than “Let’s merge our assets and spawn heirs to inherit the works”; and more charming than “We must act now to head off any speculation about our respective sexual orientations; my mother is particularly nosy”.
Everyone compliments Koosi because she’s literally golden and beautiful, and coos over Mat because he’s sweet-tempered and as big as a dog, but having been pronounced ordinary-looking I do not get as much attention as I deserve. I am Saffy the middle cat and my full name is Saffron Sassafras Zafra Safin. I was born in the year 2000 to two insane cats who lived in the backyard of my human’s friends.
I’m 30 and moving to UK next month for work and further studies. I’ve been single for more than 2 years. My last relationship lasted 7 years. I’ve had three boyfriends in total and they were all former classmates (so we’re in the same age group). They all came into my life one after the other so I never had the chance to be single for so long until this last breakup. When I found myself finally single, it was so disconcerting. I don’t know if it was the age, the weight, the working environment, or just that there are too many gay guys in the metro, but I couldn’t seem to find anyone even for just a decent date! But I didn’t sulk. I traveled, found my faith and became active at church, went out with friends, spent time with family and adored my nieces. When I found my self at a good place, I elected to go abroad – widen my horizons, so to speak. I know in my heart that I want a family, and I felt that by moving elsewhere, I’d be upping my chances to have that dream.
I didn’t get attracted to anyone until I met a new employee in another department on my last month of work. He is 7 years my junior. I was indirectly his boss. I’m a sucker for guys with smoldering, tantalizing eyes. He’s got that and the whole bad boy appeal. He also comes from a broken home, lives with a relative who took him in. He relies on his meager salary. He’s got some emotional issues as well, but I find him intelligent and I enjoy our conversations. Since my resignation, we found out we like each other and have seen each other three times. Since money is tight with him, I took on the lead to be creative. We went to a park. We watched a free movie once. And I cooked for him. I explained to him that I don’t want to have something physical like sex so he has always kept a respectful distance. He would just reach out for my hand when we are about to say goodbye. There have been instances when I feel sorely tempted to go beyond the last-minute hand holding and the kiss-on-the-cheek once. Notwithstanding the religious guilt, I’m scared for my feelings to deepen. We talk about our dreams, our problems, our philosophies. I give him career, family advice. He shares to me lessons about his hard life. He tells me he’s falling for me and wishes his circumstances would be different. I don’t want to romanticize the boss/employee, older woman/younger man thing. I know that I want to go out there and advance myself. I just don’t know how to be ending this when I leave. There’s a part of me that would still want his presence as a friend, perhaps? He told me he really wants to be in touch still at least online. What if I’ll be going out with another or would be in a relationship another, should I tell him that? Or am I thinking too far ahead?
Thank you for taking the time out to read my letter. You give very sensible, heartfelt advice.
Best regards,
Myma
Not the best illustration, but any excuse to reference Sunset Boulevard.
Dear Myrna,
There are many gay guys in the metro and when I look at the younger generation, I note that they are increasing in number. Did you know that a recent study in China shows that 16,000,000 Chinese women are married to Chinese gay men?
My impression from your letter is that the two of you are not yet officially a couple. You just date, hold hands and talk. If my impression is wrong, it’s not my fault. Hahaha.
It is my opinion that women should not give up their dreams for career advancement for a boyfriend much less a fleeting love interest. Maybe when you are already married and you are really pressed to make a choice between career and family.
Your so-called relationship is just at the initial stage and whatever bonds you have developed are at best tenuous. A career in the United Kingdom, a free pass to all European Union countries, and the chance of marrying into the royal family(no matter how remote) far outweigh an iffy relationship with a penniless boy who has emotional baggage (I am your snooty Auntie Janey for today. “Ipapagpaliban mo ang Inglatera para lang sa isang dukhang lalake?”)
You already know that you want to go out there and advance yourself. You are just distracted from your goal like the way I’m distracted from writing this column by a bag of assorted polvoron. You are just having a tantalizing appetizer. The gorgeous main course is in UK. The polvoron is delicious, especially the cookies n’ cream and peanut variety, but they are not filling. I am also feeling the religious guilt for bingeing on this polvoron like you are probably feeling the religious guilt for indulging on this boy.
It will end when you leave. Or what you are feeling right now will slowly fade out once you begin a new life and meet interesting guys. You could still be friends and keep in touch online. That’s no problem. Just please, do not send him remittances to bail him out his financial situation. And no balikbayan boxes! Do not cultivate dependency and neediness in him. You will be on the losing end. You may even realize that it would be best to stop communicating with him. To begin with, there is nothing really deep between the two of you and it may not withstand the distance and time difference.
If you suddenly have the urge to go beyond the hand-holding and kiss-on-the-cheek, be sure to have protection. We don’t want you ruining your chances in marrying Prince Harry or marrying a lord.
Truly Yours,
Auntie Janey
Want Auntie Janey to interfere in your life? Email agoniesforauntiejaney@gmail.com
In case you are new here or just dense: We Are Not Auntie Janey. We do not advise people on their relationships because we are less interested in preventing the probable outcomes of strange decisions than in seeing them come to pass. Yeah, it’s the story we’re after. To consult Auntie Janey, write to her.
Years ago, Charlie, a highly respected orthopedist and a mentor of mine, found a lump in his stomach. He had a surgeon explore the area, and the diagnosis was pancreatic cancer. This surgeon was one of the best in the country. He had even invented a new procedure for this exact cancer that could triple a patient’s five-year-survival odds—from 5 percent to 15 percent—albeit with a poor quality of life. Charlie was uninterested. He went home the next day, closed his practice, and never set foot in a hospital again. He focused on spending time with family and feeling as good as possible. Several months later, he died at home. He got no chemotherapy, radiation, or surgical treatment. Medicare didn’t spend much on him.
It’s not a frequent topic of discussion, but doctors die, too. And they don’t die like the rest of us. What’s unusual about them is not how much treatment they get compared to most Americans, but how little. For all the time they spend fending off the deaths of others, they tend to be fairly serene when faced with death themselves. They know exactly what is going to happen, they know the choices, and they generally have access to any sort of medical care they could want. But they go gently.
The cat who lives outside Momo at Ayala Triangle Gardens.
1. Get a cat. Cats sleep two-thirds of the day. Learn from the experts.
2. Turn off your phones, tablets, computers two hours before you go to bed and resist the urge to check your messages.
3. Read a Victorian novel. Dickens, Austen, Eliot and Trollope are particularly effective.
4. Watch consecutive episodes of CSI or Law and Order. There’s something comforting about watching grisly murders getting solved.
5. If you can’t fall asleep, don’t stress yourself out by thinking “I must fall asleep now! Now! I need to have a clear head tomorrow!” Go back to your book or watch an old movie on TCM. Or hang out with your cat.
Wandering cats, Kyoto. Photo by Rizzo Tangan. Thanks to Boboy for sending it in. Bundle up!
Eyeglasses by Maria Nella Sarabia, O.D.
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