Always The Bridesmaid, Never The Bride 3.0

Author’s note: The Coke series is indefinitely on hold.

But may naka-set na next fiction story akong gagawin. It is titled:

“Taga-Hugas Ka Raw Ng Burat Sa May Ermita.”

Anyway, “Always The Bridesmaid, Never The Bride” is somehow related to the Coke series.

The woman in this story became my ex-girlfriend while Precious and I were in a relationship.

All these happened in 2013.

Err, no. Hindi ko pala sila pinagsabay.

Apologies also because it took me nearly two weeks to update this story.

Mahirap talaga maging alipin ng trabaho. Hehehe.

MORE THAN WHAT MEETS THE EYE

It’s been a long day without you, Na-Leng
And I’ll tell you all about it when I see you again
We’ve come a long way from where we began
Oh, I’ll tell you all about it when I see you again
When I see you again.

THAT time, Editor-in-Chief nga ako ng college student publication namin.

Our department’s chairperson ay adviser namin sa student publication. Nanay-nanayan ko.

Professor siya sa isa sa classes nina Leng.

She can’t attend her class kina Leng because of a meeting.

I convinced her that I take over sa klase niya.

Tiwala naman siya kasi first sem na that time and magpra-practice teaching na kami sa second sem.

World Literature ang subject.

Putangina! Basta writing, grammar, and lit subjects, kahit tulog ako kaya kong ituro ang mga iyan.

Leng’s classmates were stunned when they saw me enter their classroom.

Nag-blush sina Shaira and Leng.

The students were murmuring.

“Dr. Roldan asked me to take over just for today. She has an urgent meeting with university officials,” I told them.

“We’ll read a poem today.”

One student in the class caught my attention when she nonchalantly stood up and said:

“What poem, sir? I hope it’s not boring.”

It was Leene, na naging babae ko rin pero after I graduated na. That’s another story.

So, sa class na iyon, tatlo silang naging babae ko: Shaira, Leng, and Leene.

The poem that the class read was “The Ballad of the Lonely Masturbator” by Anne Sexton.

“The end of the affair is always death.

She’s my workshop. Slippery eye,

out of the tribe of myself my breath

finds you gone. I horrify

those who stand by. I am fed.

At night, alone, I marry the bed.

Finger to finger, now she’s mine.

She’s not too far. She’s my encounter.

I beat her like a bell. I recline

in the bower where you used to mount her.

You borrowed me on the flowered spread.

At night, alone, I marry the bed.

Take for instance this night, my love,

that every single couple puts together

with a joint overturning, beneath, above,

the abundant two on sponge and feather,

kneeling and pushing, head to head.

At night alone, I marry the bed.

I break out of my body this way,

an annoying miracle. Could I

put the dream market on display?

I am spread out. I crucify.

My little plumis what you said.

At night, alone, I marry the bed.

Then my black-eyed rival came.

The lady of water, rising on the beach,

a piano at her fingertips, shame

on her lips and a flute’s speech.

And I was the knock-kneed broom instead.

At night, alone, I marry the bed.

She took you the way a woman takes

a bargain dress off the rack

and I broke the way a stone breaks.

I give back your books and fishing tack.

Today’s paper says that you are wed.

At night, alone, I marry the bed.

The boys and girls are one tonight.

They unbutton blouses. They unzip flies.

They take off shoes. They turn off the light.

The glimmering creatures are full of lies.

They are eating each other. They are overfed.

At night, alone, I marry the bed.”

Bakit iyon ang poem na ipinabasa ko sa class nina Leng?

Nakuha ko ang phone number niya after our class and I texted her that…