Of Dear Future Boyfriend

Dear Future Boyfriend, 

I'm writing to you from the past and I am very curious of the future.

This place where I am right now, it is not pretty. I think Dante Alighieri called this place The Limbo; the first circle of hell in his prima work, Dante’s Inferno. The Limbo houses so-called neutralists or opportunists; people who devoted their lives neither to good nor to evil.  Dante must have meant The Limbo for jilted lovers too, who became uncommitted by circumstances.

I was sitting down by the side of the road when Desperation came and handed me a coin. Go on, take this, and make that phone call on that tin can phone. Call him and plead for him to come back, Desperation offered.

I took his shining coin and said a meek thank you. Desperation hovered by my side for a while, looking at me like a fly on the wall, thinking when will I unravel and make that one phone call. After all, I did take his coin. He hung around for a little while and when it was apparent that I was not going to call my ex-boyfriend, he said fuck you bitch! and disappeared.

Shielding my eyes from the sun, I  walked down the road, unknown even to me where should I be heading. And then I came to a crossroad; The High Road or The Spiral. Upon reflection, I knew The Spiral is inviting. I mean, just look at the sign board. It’s a flashy red neon light. It’s a speakeasy. 

But the last time when I was there in The Spiral, it took me years to untangle myself from its many forms of abuse. Took me even longer to crawl out from it.

So I took the High Road.

The High Road is treacherous. Self-Loathing accompanied me in the day when the sun is up, and then at night, Loneliness took over. He said to Self-Loathing, I'll take it from here. You come back after my shift is over. Loneliness was not a friend. Under the stars, he made me dismantle myself and I was immobile from the immense loneliness, crippled by the uncertainties. He amplified my need for my ex-boyfriend. 

I couldn't breathe, I hated myself, and I thought, maybe I should try harder, maybe I should have moved down to Kuala Lumpur to be with him when I could. But I did try. I attended an interview in Kuala Lumpur for a job that I didn't like so I could be with him. But my ex-boyfriend reckoned that it was not time for me to move to Kuala Lumpur yet because he will be busy and he did not want that to be an issue.

How thoughtful of him, isn't it?

But then along the way, I began to revitalize myself, so much so that Loneliness gave up on me and Solitude took my hands and said, It's OK. We have found a way to fly free. Every night, Solitude and I watched movies. He helped me ease back into old routines and together, we got thru the Ex-Boyfriend withdrawal syndrome. He held my hands when I was scared, eat with me when I dined out alone, and engaged in intellectual discourse when no one wanted to. He told Loneliness to back off whenever we bumped into Loneliness. He told the fortune tellers to stop telling me that all lost lovers will come back. Hope befriended me, but his ass got kicked by Solitude.

Last week, Solitude said he had someplace else to be. I agreed and then as I waved goodbye to him, I made him promise to call and visit me whenever he’s in town. I also made a mental note; He has kind eyes.

In Spain, when someone wishes you well, you reply Ojalá, which means "I hope". Etymologically, this word stemmed from an older Arabic phrase Insya’alah, meaning May Allah grant [that].

So, yes, I am on my way to find you and Ojalá, you will be there.  

And when I'm there I will cook the same thing repeatedly, until you get bored of it. Sometimes when we watch the telly, I will make sandwiches for you to snack on. Know that when you arise every morning, a cup of hot coffee awaits you. If you don't like coffee (I heard that these people exist), I won't force it on you. If you're sick, I will be by your side, making sure you eat your medicine, feeding you your meals.

Ojalá.