Now who doesn’t love a holiday romance. My Filipino boyfriend was the perfect exorcism to my last sexual encounter (see post- sex when you’re travelling). A friend of a friend of mine’s boyfriend (does that make sense?), he is the most chilled out man on the planet. A reggae musician, the definitive everything’s gonna be alright guy. The nice thing about him was the suspense; the build up, it was actually romantic. Not straight in for an unsatisfactory rub around before one or the other has to leg it to the airport to catch an economy flight to Bangkok.
Perfect as the romance was, and it really was. In real life our mini relationship would abjectly fail in the long run. He’s super chilled, the most chilled out man on the planet, horizontal, literally horizontal; I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye because he fell asleep (probs for the best).
Although I have chilled considerably since I’ve been away, a natural response of an extraction of everyday life stresses; the way a lack of work will always mellow people. Yes I’m calmer because I’m not reporting to anyone; my boss isn’t yelling at me that I forgot someone’s birthday or one of his unnecessary appointments was entered incorrectly, or some other menial nuisance that always fell on my desk. There’s no plan to stick to and each day can be filled with 5,000 different possibilities (finances depending) allowing infinite opportunities. Yes I am less stressed, I’m happier, I’m more chilled out, but I will never be like my Filipino bf. No matter how much I laze around listening to reggae, drinking Red Horse as the sun goes down. No matter how many naked tribal massages (ahem) I get; deep down I’m still gonna be highly strung and neurotic. That’s in my DNA, I’m just at the lower end of the neuroses spectrum right now.
Spending intimate time with this wonderful guy gave me a whole new view on Boracay which is partly the reason I’ve stayed so long, and certainly the reason I don’t want to leave. The only thing that compels me to go is guilt. I cannot come to an archipelago of 7,000 and just hit up one island, oh and Manila.
I highly doubt I’ll ever see him again. But after the sting on the English guy, thank you thank you thank you for reminding me that men aren’t cunts.. I think you’re just the bestest.
gone shmavelling 