(Continued from The Boracay Eyeball 2)
We were on the bus to Caticlan… I cannot remember now how long that bus ride took — was it 3 hours? 2 hours? 1 hour? It seemed like heaven in aeternum, because as the bus went bumping along to Caticlan, Dan was holding my hand.
Yes, throughout the bus ride to Caticlan, Dan was holding my hand. Minutes before we arrived at the port where we were to take the boat to Boracay Island, he squeezed my hand, and whispered, “I love you.”
I felt two very distinct emotions swirling inside me — first, the superlative flattery of being told “I love you” by this chunky hunk of a man, not to mention the sexy, sexy mind; second, a discombobulating feeling because I hardly knew the guy — it’s all too strange, all too much, all too soon. I thought I was being a nice guy when I replied back with an “ooops, ambilis naman yata.”
Somehow the heat of the sizzling sun and the powdery white sand seeped through our feet as we walked our way to our accommodations in Boracay proper. As the aircon started to blare away, Dan was quickly undressing. We consummated what had to be consummated, even with something nagging at me deep inside, “did I offend him with what I said?” I could not deny that the sex was good… it was actually great. At first I was worried that we might not be sexually compatible, yet it turned out he was willing to be bottom. He was actually malambing in bed, almost child-like, something I found amusing since he seemed so much like the brusko-type.
The rest of the afternoon till evening, we were walking around, telling each other stories, eating, drinking, etcetera. We were basically getting to know each other all over again. The familiarity from our extended phone conversations suddenly came back, and we were comfortable with each other again. As we walked around I saw a male model and friend from Manila who came rushing, and wasn’t able to control himself. “Ipakilala mo naman ako diyan sa friend mo.” Of course Dan took it well and offered his handshake, “I’m Dan,” then looked my way to give me a mischievous grin and naughty wink.
We were laughing like old friends. I was actually enjoying his company, really enjoying. After dinner, over beer and peanuts, he suddenly fell silent. I was about to ask him what the matter was when, in a very soap opera-ish way, he looked at me straight in the eye, then popped the question:
“Migs, do you love me?”
*** to be continued ***
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