Love Will Always Win

Yesterday, for our sixth month together, we opted to ride the MRT going to Gateway. It was my idea (though he claims he was thinking of it already way before I came up with it), what with the gas price hiking up like mercury in a thermometer placed in a pot of boiling magma, I could not expect him to drive so far with his car when there's a cheaper, more interesting and if you ask me, romantic way to go to where we want. We have never taken the MRT together and I saw this as a chance to go. I think it's romantic to ride the train with the man of my dreams making sure that I am safe.

On our way to the MRT ticket booth, we passed by a tukneneng shop called Balut Eggspress. I have always been fond of those quail eggs wrapped in orange batter. I pointed thme out and perhaps, seeing the longing in my eyes, he asked if I wanted some.

I had my fill of tuknenengs with vinegar and a glass of black gulaman when my attention was called by an article about how the owner got the place started. Something that I have noticed about myself, I do not bother much about the details. And so, as I read the article with my beau feeding me Penoy with orange batter I understood from skimming that they were not welcomed by the malls and so they had to settle with MRT stations.

Later that evening, on our way home in his car, we were discussing the stand and we could not agree among ourselves which it is really:

Alam mo naman kung 'di ka sikat di ka papansinin ng mga malls

or

Alam mo naman kung 'di ka sikat di ka papansinin sa mga malls

We ended up betting. My idea, since I was hell-bent sure taht I'm absolutely right. I remember the article discussing how malls won't welcome them. The wager: Another date to the Globe Platinum Cinema at Gateway and dinner. If he won I would have to pay up for the date otherwise he would have to pay again. You see, that night was our first time at Gateway adn we both enjoyed the luxurious La-Z Boy seats in the cinema while watching The Legend of Zorro. It would have been more enjoyable though if we were side by side one another instead of having a round table between us. In spite the table, we held each other's hands. We had dinner at Teriyaki Boy.

Who won?

We had our prayer meeting and mass at the AFP theater last Sunday at 10:30am. We had to wake up at 7am and then we took the LRT and MRT as agreed upon by a female co-faculty and the rest of us. The talk was great and even better it was because my baby was with me. I like it when we attend prayer meetings together.

On the way home, though exhausted, we passed by the Ayala MRT station and checked out the stand. And there, as clear as a Swarovski crystal can be, I was right.

Surprisingly though, I did not do a dance of joy. I did not gloat to my heart's content. Instead, a part of me felt bad that he lost. Then it hit me. It did not matter anymore who won or lost. It was not about winning for me anymore. This was a first for me because I am not the kind who will let up. I will gloat on end when I know I am right. But I did not. I might have been too tired but deep inside, the yearn to celebrate was not there at all but a feeling of satisfaction that what I said was right. More than that though, I have proven to myself that I do love this man and even my ego agrees.

I love you baby!