Our Story
Rhoel and Blanche spent four years together and four years apart, then another six months together and now, 16 months apart. They hooked up over a pint of rocky road ice cream on May 7, 2001 before breaking up -- no ice cream this time -- on Nov. 30, 2004. What happened between then and now was divine intervention. LOL. But seriously, note the dates. And know that when you give God your hearts, there is no limiting what He can do in your lives.
HER: IF THE SHOE FITS
Or why I dated and re-dated my fiance
It was one December night in 2000. About a dozen of us DepEd reporters got free tickets to Miss Saigon, which was then running at CCP. I was dying to go, but we had no car and I was in no mood to commute that far. My friend Jena promised to take care of it, and true enough, on the day of Miss Saigon, she produced, in her words, "our driver" -- Rhoel, a fellow reporter who drove this bright, shiny M&M-orange-colored Honda Civic named Tisay.
Apparently, there's no such thing as a free ride. At the CCP, my friends left me to sit alone with Rhoel during the entire show. I was, it turned out, on a date. Discreetly, I looked down at my companion's shoes (when I'm on a date, I always check out the shoes FIRST. If they're ugly, there's no possibility of a relationship. End of discussion). Well, Rhoel was wearing Cole Haans that night. I remember thinking, "Hmm, niiice. May future..." LOL. Turns out the shoes were not the only nice thing about the guy.
Niceness brought us four rollercoaster years together, but great shoes and conversations could only go so far. I started to look for things that weren't there, and I sensed the undeniable order from God to step aside and give Him the space He needs to work in Rhoel's life (and in mine). I obeyed; we separated in 2004. It was both a scary and liberating move.
In our four years apart, I saw -- from afar -- how Rhoel grew in his faith and remained close to the people dearest to me. He still brought me soup and prayed for me when I was sick. He would pick up Bengget from our house and take her and Denise to kids' church or the mall. He emceed and brought the band on my mom's 50th birthday, which I attended with my then new boyfriend (Rhoel shook the guy's hand). When Tatay (my beloved lolo from Mindoro) had cancer, it was Rhoel who often visited and prayed for him, bringing his favorite balut and driving him to and from the hospital.
Rhoel had always been a good man, but away from me, he became even better; he acquired a sense of direction he lacked when we were together. I thought then that whoever this guy would marry would be one lucky b____.
I didn't think that would be me.
We had both moved on. I relocated to Hong Kong late 2006; Rhoel flew to the States late 2007, just when I broke up with the boyfriend he met on momsy's birthday. Rhoel knew it was a low point in my life, so even from a thousand miles away, he was there for me. He made me laugh my way out of a heartbreak.
On May 7, 2008, I received great news from the University of San Francisco: I got a journalism fellowship in a city just a train ride away from where Rhoel was staying. He picked me up at the SFO airport four days before his birthday, and for six months, we dated again, went to church, took road trips, discovered hole-in-the-wall eateries, browsed through bookstores, grabbed shoes on sale...
We came full circle on Nov. 30, 2008, outside the Orpheum Theater in San Francisco. There were no conspiring friends this time or free tickets or fancy rides. It was just me and my best friend, fulfilling my dream of watching Phantom of the Opera on stage. I glanced down at my companion's shoes -- dark brown Doc Martens.
I got the right guy. 8 )
HIM: THE PERFECT WRITER
Love never fails...
“And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.” (1 Corinthians 13:13)
According to Google Earth, I am 6,947 miles away from my fiancee, here in the South Bay.
But in the nine years I've known her, I have never felt closer to her than right now.
Nine years... I still remember clearly when I first saw Blanche at the then Eastern Police District Annex in Ortigas Center. I was drafting a very un-newsworthy story when she walked into the press office. My future bride was wearing a multi-colored blouse and an 'I will conquer the world' look in her googly eyes that I have gotten to know quite well. In just one glance, I was both fascinated and intimidated. The more I stole looks at her, the more she prettified. Yes, folks. Prettified. This was bad (good). I was caught. I was hooked. I was doomed.
There are so many things I wish to thank God for. One of these is mobile phones. I was painfully shy to even start a face-to-face conversation with Blanche, so I decided to share what I thought were witty and profound text messages. (The first time we ever talked in person, it was about the purchase of laptop bags similar to the crappy one I owned. I acted like I knew what I was talking about and was able to persuade her to buy the same crappy bag)
Believe it or not, I was just glad that a nice, smart and pretty girl from a sikat paper didn't mind spending a few pesos in texting me (I did not know a lot of nice, smart and pretty girls). I was really glad she indulged my nerdy pretentiousness, and slowly we got the 411 on each. I never thought I'd get as far as I did. Much thanks to mutual friends who collectively thought we were good for each other, hehehe.
One of the things I learned was that Blanche is what I am not, which is a good thing. In the years we have been together and the time in between we were not, I have learned much from her, and I am the better man for it. And in our coming life as husband and wife, I stand to learn a whole lot more.
She taught me that the world is a bigger, more beautiful place than I could have thought. She showed me that existence should not be taken for granted and the human experience respected. That there is no compromise for the things we believe in and are worth going hungry and poorer for. More importantly, she witnessed to me and helped me see God for who He really is.
During the first four years Blanche and I were together, a day apart was a day too long. Looking back, I knew we were meant to grow old together but I denied the fact that I needed a LOT of work to address my shortcomings.
And because God loves me more than I can ever imagine, He wrote my love story. The first thing He did was to break us up.
In the four years that followed, the Guy Upstairs made me travel the Wilderness solely on faith - He showed me that for every valley, gorge and desert I crossed, there were also incomparable rivers I could swim, breathtaking summits I could scale. I made the journey, and He never for a second left my side. He showed me life as it was meant to be lived! For the first time in my life, I knew I could not only survive but thrive being single.
Two years ago, I was content and happy with my life - I held a promising job at ABS-CBN, a great church life and new, super-duper friends. The thing is, God will always up the ante just a little bit more. So He brought me to the States. And (the Lord playing matchmaker?) in a few months, brought Blanche too. (Prior to this, we had slowly reacquainted -- thanks to YM this time -- and became, again, the best friends that we had been)
Needless to say, waiting for her at SFO was the BEST four hours I spent in an airport. LOL
I consider the past nine years as really blessed years. Together, Blanche and I laughed at each other's jokes (and at each other), cried (me mostly), dreamed (she mostly), journeyed, had "moments", schemed, went to war, held ceasefires, celebrated. I can only look forward to the coming years.
I love you, babe. As much as my battered, wisened heart can. It will be a good life -- with all the best stories beginning with "Blanche and I..." ##
