Whenever Chemae arrives from her trips to Ilocos, Baguio or Singapore, I’d always feel pathetically awkward toward her. While I am perfectly aware of how lucky I am to be with such a beautiful (and yes, “hot”) lady, not seeing her for a few days is enough to refresh my eyes so much that the moment I see her again — I am starstruck. Case in point: When she came back from Singapore last time and we met in a mall, I couldn’t even touch her, let alone wrap my arms around her shoulders. She’d say that I’m overreacting because she doesn’t look that good, but, well, my jitters don’t agree. It always takes me several minutes before the memories start kicking in and I see her again for that person who has unbelievably been around me for more than a year now — my girlfriend.
That awkwardness manifested itself again when I fetched her along North Avenue. She just came back from her Holy Week family reunion and Canada-planning in Paoay, Ilocos Norte. When I saw her, she didn’t have anything special on, except another one of those hand-me-down dresses from her grandma (which are actually ordinary dresses when worn by her grandma, but transform into something lookbook-ish when she wears them). Thankfully, I missed her so much that the longing to touch her again overcame the awkwardness this time. I managed to massage her nape. And you really can’t help but rub against each other when you’re riding a cramped tricycle.
Night came and we found ourselves in Starbucks Trinoma once again, me sharing her iced white chocolate mocha. We mostly talked about what I should do to be with her in Canada as soon as possible. For me, the masterplan for now is so simple only a desperate romantic like me could have come up with it: save some 50 grand, fly to Singapore where they don’t require any visa, try to get a job there before I run out of money, work, save some more money, then attempt to get a job in Canada from there. It sounds easy enough and doable. I even told her that if I had that 50 grand now, I’d fly to Singapore tomorrow and get a job as a writer there.
But lots of things have to be figured out: how to save and how soon can I come up with that moolah, who’s to contact in Singapore, where to get accommodations, how to apply for jobs there, and then of course, if ever I do get lucky and get past the Singapore stage of the plan, how the hell to go from Singapore to Canada? All this strangely reminds me of Prison Break, except I’m no Michael Scofield.
But at least we have a plan. And I still say: I can do that. I know I can. I’m the kind of person who can do things given the proper motivation.
And I haven’t had a greater motivation than this in my life. 131 Days to go.