It's a brave thing living alone.
And saddening. I just came from a 5-year-6-months relationship. Which I firmly believed was the one I'd have before I die.
I came here in Manila with my (putang inang Puta) lover with chuckles on the thought of living together like real couples under the same roof. All I wanted to do is go to the market in weekends with Puta. Cook decent meal for us. Party all Saturdays. Get sissy with strangers but have Puta alone around my arms in Sundays. But the Puta fell for someone. I remained on Puta's side. I convinced myself Puta was into a puppy love affair with this Boba (a putang ina puta too). It turned out I was wrong. I became invisible. Puta and Boba started having arguments. Like they were couples. They went through security issues like how I and Puta used to go through. I was not just invisible then. I outran my skin, flew like a deep pure wind.
I live alone now. Puta and Boba live together in the same condo where Puta and I used to live together. Boba has his clothes in my closet where I used to keep mine. I am writing this story in my BlackBerry. I used to type in Puta's netbook. I eat alone. I sleep alone. It's a humbling experience living (unusually) alone. I still cry. Not that I want Puta back. I thought I could start a family with Puta.