Very early this morning, I think I dreamt about Mikah. I was attending an event and managed to convince this guy to sneak away and have sex with me. He wasn’t just any guy, he was an ex boyfriend, one that I was still on good terms with. In the waking life, the only ex-boyfriend I still speak to would be Mayo, but it wasn’t Mayo in the dream. I didn’t ask which ex-boyfriend. I was gonna get laid. You don’t ask too many questions when you’re about to get laid after an eternity of celibacy.
So, we’re messing around and it felt so good to hug him, felt so familiar, felt so comforting. Like I have been embracing him and kissing him for a lifetime. He said to me, “You feel so good, why don’t we do this more often?” And I pushed him away, playfully still, and I said, “Because the love of my life just died.” Then, I heard a sound outside my room, and looked out the window, which overlooked the ocean. It was a small room by a pier, apparently. In some sunny European country. I was just looking at the sea, and the guy hugged my thighs, then said he’ll be back and left. I turned around and started to look for him. I was convinced it was Mikah. I think the hugging of the thighs gave it away. I was already half-awake, and knew that dreams had that way of convincing you the truth is not what it is, and I knew that this would have been the first time I dreamt of Mikah since he left me forever, and I just had to see him and hold him again in the dream.
I couldn’t find him anywhere. So I sat down and tried to remember what he looked like. I was just now kissing and hugging him, I had to remember his face, right? But there was no face. Just the feeling of his arms around me, his lips on my lips. And that started to slip away too.
Back in Manila two Saturdays ago, I joked to my mom that I wanted Mikah to haunt me. Well, she thought I was joking, but I was totally serious. He told me if ever he died before me that he would. Make good on your promise, Blieb! I told Bilqis I wanted to take his spirit with me back to KL. I’m clearly having a hard time accepting how forever this is, hmm.
Living in KL away from my family and friends in Manila, it can be so easy to think he’s still alive and maybe just not talking to me. So out-of-character of him, but easy to think that, like my parents and siblings and friends, I may see him again and hug him. And kiss him. My sadness of the last few days is remembering that he is unlike everybody else, who are very much still alive.
And this is not going to change. This is forever.
I worry that I talk about him too much to my family and friends. It’s a burden that I know they shouldn’t carry. I want to assure them I have a lot to live for, I just need to be able to talk about him sometimes. Or more than sometimes. Because I think I would go mad from the sadness, from the constant heaviness in my chest. The heavy emptiness.
Otherwise, my life is great. I have a lot of good work that I deserve to be doing, that is worthy of me. I have a wonderful house, a funny and affectionate dog, friends and family who love me. And I had a great love. Even if it makes me sad, I like that it’s a love that lasts forever.