must hate weddings

Sunday afternoons usually mean running personal errands, crazily scrubbing my bathroom tiles without handgloves, reading the latest book that I purchased or borrowed, or hooking up with a stranger I met on a Friday night. But that Sunday was really different. I was at the wedding of my cousin, to whom, a long time ago, I thought I've fallen in love to.



I didn't really want to come because (like many gay people of my age), wedding is like a funeral, just a bit glamored. But there I was that Sunday afternoon, wearing my Barong Tagalog and sweating like a mad pig. I decided to go just to pacify my mom, and also because I want to see Fernwood Gardens.

I really don't have something against weddings, I'm just not designed to be seated in a table with strangers on the reception and try to act as if I'm enjoying their company. That would be the one reason why I don't like coming to these gatherings, and the fact that many relatives would inevitably ask when I will get married too. One more time they do this, I'll scream at their faces that I am GAY, and that they should notice that.



Anyhow, the mass turned out to be a bit emotional on my part. Suddenly, I noticed how perfect that wedding was. Everything was just plain romantic. Everyone was beautiful. It was an intimate gathering of people celebrating the thing that the groom and the bride have been tastefully brewing.


And then a thought hit me. It hit me so hard that I was left melting after giving that thought a chance to corrupt me. I thought that I will never have this kind of thing in my whole life. It was funny and depressing...(to be continued)

P.S. as usual, I'm sleep deprived, so I have to rest my eyes for now. I just have to post this and set some of the thoughts free from my system.