The Story of Us

I clearly remember the day I first laid eyes on Edil. It was on the 1st of May, 1994, a Sunday night. I was 13, straight of freshman year (and broken hearted from a “puppy love”). He and my older brother just graduated from a spiritual retreat and when he went out of the chapel…pimple-faced, runny nose and all…I was hooked.

I only saw him about five times during that summer. I didn’t talk to him, didn’t move around his circles, made myself scarce (since I was shy – before). But he was a constant “star” in my then-journal, how he walked, how he laughed, how I “thought” he glanced my way at this moment (the things you write at 13…..).

I (sort of) forgot about him during my sophomore and junior year. Yes, I saw him from time to time, but the infatuation (kilig) was gone. I was no longer 13, and since I was blossoming into a lady already, I also knew the effect I can have on (certain) men.

Unknown to me, my Kuya Derek (was his usual nosy self) read the journal Edil was “starring in”. He kept quiet about it as he knew another “big” one – that his friend, Edil, liked me too.

It was all complete coincidence that he knew. He introduced a friend to Edil and Edil bragged about a certain sister of his who was “worth seeing”; and that he would have courted “that sister” if it weren’t for the friendship with Derek. “Hindi talo”, ika nga.

Fast forward to the summer of 1996, Holy Week. Kuya introduced Edil to me, and the rest they say is history.

Of course, I’m totally kidding.

We officially became a couple on the 10th of August, 1996, after he asked me to dance to a song playing on the radio – It Might Be You (we were before the TGIS loveteam, ok?!). I knew and remember the exact dates of everything – the day he first gave me flowers, the first time he held my hands, and many, many more.

But all these were nothing compared to the fights. I was 15, he was 17, what do you expect? I was proud and stubborn as hell. He was demanding and temperamental. Together, you can expect to see fights straight out of soap operas – doors slamming, one walking out on the other, the other running after, physical fights, very loud shouts, bouts of crying. All the people around us would not even wonder if we seem to be sweet this month and break up the next.

Our fights were petty at first, then one big thing led to another (but there were no third parties). Our break-ups lasted for months, with neither of us talking with each other.

Edil would always come back for reasons I never knew. He would always show up on our doorstep during the most ordinary days and come back. No begging, no crying. He just shows up. And for reasons I also never knew..I would take him back. As simple as that. We talk, kiss and make-up.

Most people were surprised when I got pregnant. They were more surprised when I didn’t want to get married. Our families were active in Church, deeply religious and were friends. The score? Edil wanted to get married, I didn’t. The reason? Not because of anything else, it’s just that I wasn’t ready. Edil translated it as not loving and trusting enough to risk it, I did that rightly because of love. I knew if we get married, any chance of personal growth would give way to sacrifices for the “family”, and at that point, I used my head. With my promising future and support from my parents, I stood my ground. Edil threatened, bribed, did everything to make me change my mind. It didn’t work.
He still stayed.

And the situation went on for around 2 years - us being a dysfunctional family, him visiting regularly (we were not allowed to live in together), studying, fighting, making up.

And then it stopped. He got tired of visiting. I got tired of fighting. We were in a stump. It was either we move forward or break away, the seven year itch.

And we didn’t meet ways. I wanted to (finally) get married. He didn’t.

We didn’t get to meet each other half-way, for the second time.

That was, I think, the worst break up we have ever been through. We both decided we wanted out, and yes, quite frankly, we were not really thinking of our son. We both felt that we were wronged, we have given more than we can give and we were both wanting more.

In short, nagdalaga at nagbinata kami.And grow up I did.

I cried once when he left, and threw myself at work. Since I was working and studying, I chose to work graveyard shifts, 11 hours, 4 times a week and study 3 times a week, 8 hrs a day. There was no time to cry.

He did what any ordinary man does when heart broken.

So it went for a year. In fairness to Edil, he never forgot about Matthew. It got to the point I didn’t want to “share”, but Edil was so consistent in picking Matthew every other week (Matthew was 3 so he got to be with either parents every other week). Our parents didn’t know what to do with us anymore. They tried talking to us, we didn’t listen. Our common friends knew better than to intercede knowing how hard-headed we both were.

Prayers worked actually. They were all just praying for us.

Our situation carried for close to a year. For the first 6 months, everything was a blur. I was working, studying, trying to be all for Matthew and having a rebound guy (yep). He, in the meantime, was (I think) having the time of his life.

He actually wasn’t.

Ten months after the big earth shake (hehehe), I was tired and things were pretty easy with school and I’ve gotten used with work, that I realized I missed Edil. But I would rather die than be the first to call him (I’m so proud).But I did call. To congratulate him for winning in a competition he joined. And that was it. A five-minute call.

And that’s what started everything. (again,…for the nth time)

He called two days after Christmas, the eve of New Year 2004 and visited the house every chance he got.

And 2004 was here. (You have to have an LJ pala. Sorry. Too many events.)

And 12 years after May 1, 1993, the rest they say, is finally history.

Nalagay din kami sa tahimik c”,).

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