‘Not born under a rhyming planet’

Nigel and I don’t love loudly. There are no extravagant gifts and grand displays of affection, only little surprises — like flower origamis from table napkin and restaurant receipts.

At some point in the past few years, a video editor colleague recalled how he saw us in the cinemas and thought we were in an argument. I asked why. “Kasi tahimik lang kayong naglalakad, ni hindi man lang kayo magka-holding hands.”

In the silence between us though, we find comfort. We cradle the same values, nurse our shared frustrations on the state of our politics and society, nurture a similar affinity for words and metaphysics, and support each other’s growth.

^ From when Nigel asked if he could borrow my laptop to do a quick search

Like everyone else, this year pushed us to enforce changes in our lives. Adjustments had to be made especially as we decided to cohabit, finally. And there are moments, brief conversations, I am recording here because I want to remember:

I.

Me: Should I water Zoldyck (my ZZ plant)?
Him: No, ignore it! Don’t even mention its name. Think of how your father neglected you when you were a child and how this pushed you to excel later in life.

II.

Me: When did you move in here? Was it July? August?
Him: I can’t remember.
Me: Oh, okay.
Him: But I was always here.
Me: Huh?
Him: Even if I wasn’t physically here, my heart stays with you.

III.

Me: You know, Mika (my friend) said she believes couples who survive the pandemic will stay together for a long time.
Him: So you think we’ll stay long?
Me: We’ve been together long enough. Surely, we can make the relationship last longer.

^ I was decluttering my online assets when I found this draft
from a shared blog we were planning but never really did
IV.

Him: May I use the Scotch-Brite to clean the toilet?
Me: The blue one? Yeah, that’s what it’s for. But I’ll do it on weekend. Just rest.
Him: No, I’ll do it. That’s the guy’s job.
Me: A guy’s job? I didn’t know there’s a distinction.
Him: Of course, there is. The princess doesn’t do the dirty job.
Me: So I’m a princess?
Him: Yes. You’re Sleeping Beauty, farting deadly. •