No Susie Homemaker

I’m no Susie Homemaker. I even mess up making the all-time instant pansit canton if my life depended on it. I even scorch up rice despite the fact that I’m doing it with a rice-cooker. The only thing I’m good in making is a cup of coffee…but I mess that up sometimes too… I’m just no Susie Homemaker.

But I try. Because when I made that batch of pork chops, you gobbled it all up like a hungry pig despite the fact that it was saltier than the sea… naubos nga lang ang ketchup namin… and we laughed about it in the end.

I try because every time you sit down to a meal I’ve made with the sweat of my brow, your first spoonful always feels like the first time you leaned over for a kiss: nervous and expectant, with drum rolls beating in suspense behind my ears. And when it’s over, you gobble up the rest of what’s on your plate with theatrical gusto, just like when you knew you loved me and decided to be with me even when I’m not really up to everyone else’s taste.

I’m no Susie homemaker. I have a temper to match yours. I can’t promise you anything like a perfect massage at the end of a tiring day or a gourmet meal. I can’t even guarantee that I would always say yes to your convictions as proper girlfriends are expected to do. My opinions are my own and I’d like to believe that the reason why our conversations have been knitting us together like a sweater is because we grow with each others’ differences. Like my books. You don’t like some of them, but you accept them as a part of me. You listen when I share the things I’ve read and pretend you don’t really care much. But the truth is, sometimes you pick one of them out, for no reason at all, and realize you just can’t put it down.

Sometime in August while I was catering to an infant with a mild fever, you suddenly sent me a message: “you know I love you, right?” and I replied: “yes…with faith”

For weeks I pondered on it. Somehow worried that something must have happened to you… I suppose now I know… even when you haven’t told me everything, now I know. And I leave it all to trust. I will no longer ask questions about what’s past, knowing that the truth will reveal itself when the time is right. And when it does, I know now that it cannot change the way I feel. The important thing is, between the two of us, I’m not the only one who believes that what we have is worth fighting for. Otherwise, knowing you, there wouldn’t be an us anymore at all, no matter what I or anyone else would do. All I now is, when your first love asked you about me, you never denied me. I was never a secret. There was no going behind anyone’s back, even when others made it seem that way. I loved you then for fighting for me. I love you still for holding our ground.

They say this is the reason why love is blind. But I don’t think so. My eyes have never been more open, thanks to you. I can see your pain. Your frustrations. Your anger at things that are beyond your control. But beyond that, I also see your determination to do the right thing. To break the barriers other people have set for you. That is the one thing that makes me extremely proud of you. I never asked you to change. But willingly, you did. By becoming a better person while you were with me, you made me feel beautiful and made want to become a better person too.

I love you. Despite it all and because of it all.

I’m no Susie Homemaker. In fact, I tend to wake you up in the middle of the night when I’m sleepless when women should just let their men get on with their well-deserved sleep. I’m sorry for not being perfect. I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you needed company. I’m sorry I don’t have a colorful past to keep me a mystery. I’m sorry I cannot be content with just staying home and taking care of my loved ones. Just because I have a dream of becoming someone doesn’t mean I would lack the love to give away.

But somehow, despite all that has happened, you still held my hand one afternoon at the beach and made me sit with you in the rain when everybody else was running for cover. And the rain seemed to wash away everything bad that hurt… and it’s ironic because everything good that was left, also hurt. The kind of hurt you know you can withstand because it was the beautiful kind. And when I couldn’t sleep after that controversial house call and you walked me to the beach at 3 in the morning and laid my head on your lap until the sun rose, I still couldn’t sleep. But it was for a different reason now. How did you expect me to even miss a single moment of that sunrise when you looked down on me with that smile I never thought I would see again?

You cannot change the fact that I just cannot sleep, but you gave me a more beautiful reason not to. You cannot stop the hurt anymore than you can stop the sun from rising, but you made it all worthwhile.

Our extended family here taught us a very, very important phrase: “I forgive you. Please forgive me.”

I’m no Susie Homemaker. But that doesn’t make me any less a woman. I cannot love you as anyone else but myself. The good with the bad.

When you think about it, we must have really gone a long, long way together to make God notice that we were finally ready for this test. I cannot say for sure that we’ve passed it. I think we’re still in the middle of it. But when push comes to shove, even if we fail, nobody ever said there were no remedial classes. :) Hindi naman multiple choice ang life diba? Hindi rin touch-move. Hindi rin true or false. Sabi ni Bob Ong, ang totoong test ng buhay, essay type. Pwedeng mahaba. Pwedeng maikli. Pwedeng magkamali. Ok lang ang erasures. At laging may extra points for effort. What’s important is that you see it through and never give up.

I’m no Susie Homemaker.

But I love you as Carla Mae Robles.

And I’m not giving up on us.

Not just yet.

Thank you for not giving up on me too.

Even after all the scratch-outs, white-outs and erasures, I’m still game if you’re game.