He is the one you call when you have a fight with your Boss for not finishing that Monthly Financial report. The person you consult to when your crush suddenly starts flirting with you. He is the one you send a message on Facebook when everyone else is asleep or busy on a Thursday night. He is the one you text when you're feeling sad. And he never fails to cheer you up because he always texts back with some inspiring and uplifting advice, or maybe some sarcastic one-liners.
Mind you, he is not gay, he's as straight as the the pole where they hoist the Philippine flag every Monday morning. He's considered 'one of the girls', some one who is not afraid to hang out with a bunch of ladies sipping coffee at a Starbucks down at Bonifacio High Street. He's perfectly confident with his masculinity, yet he's not afraid to use that obscure Beki language when talking with you.
Whenever you find it hard to take down one last bite of that double cheeseburger you ordered at McDonald's, you can damn be sure he'll finish it. When your PC breaks, all you need to do is to text him and he'll head straight to your house, ready to reformat that aging machine of yours. Maybe he'll bring some donuts from Dunkin' or burritos from Mexicali. Then you'll eat while he's setting up your Wi-Fi at home, then talk about the hell of a week you had in your office.
But he is not your boyfriend, and will never be, even though every people you come across asks you if he's your boyfriend and you just casually wave your hand and say that he's not, while laughing out loud. For you, he is just a friend, a bestfriend, a bro, a buddy. You can never imagine yourself dating him, though technically, you've been spending every Saturday night having a date with him at a Chinese Dimsum house in Binondo ever since you've been close. You can never imagine being with him, because you're with him almost every day.
You know that he likes you, yet you deny it to yourself. You turn yourself blind from the sweet text messages he sends you every night. You're deaf from all the caring and comforting words he gives you. Heck, he might have confessed to you, but you turned him down. You can't understand how someone like him could ever like you or love you more than a friend. How can he when he sees you inside out, when he knows you well enough to know that you went to the bathroom that time you replied late on Skype, when he hears you fart and burp and squeal like a little rat. How can he, when he already saw how ugly you are after just waking up.
Yet, the two of you go on, and on, and on, as if the both of you know nothing about each other's feelings. This will continue until you finally meet someone with the face of Coco Martin and the abs of Derek Ramsey. The three of you will start to hang out, until he can't take it anymore and so he makes up an elaborate excuse why he can't join you in watching Avengers. So you and the new guy will start dating, and having sex, until you finally forget to ask him to hang out with you.
But he will do nothing. He'll accept the situation openly, and won't feel bitter about it. He'll get hurt, but you'll never know. He'll cry but he'll never show the tears. He will never tell you how kind of a jerk the new guy is because honestly he has no idea, and he has full trust on the choices that you make. Yes, he'll still text you, and ask how your day was, so you remind yourself to text him back before you go to sleep, but you won't.
Then the usual happens, and the new guy breaks up with you. You will run back to him, crying and screaming, and he'll offer his shoulder for you. He will listen to you rant about how come you can't find 'the one' and how all guys are the same. He won't blame you, because he knows you've suffered enough. He won't talk shit about the old new guy because he doesn't know him well to judge him or his intentions.
Then the two of you will return to your usual routine. You will stop feeling sad about your recent break up, you won't miss having a boyfriend because you have him for the meantime. You will hold his hand, you will rest your head on his shoulders when you're feeling tired while riding the MRT, and he will hug you when you're about to cry. He will give you everything you want, and he won't ask for anything in return. He won't expect, he won't wait, he doesn't mind, not at all. You can continue searching for your 'the one', your Mr. Right, and he can continue on being the only man on the world who can truly love and accept you for who you are. He is your meantime boy.
