Wife or Something Like It

He kind of had me at “Hello”. Had my ire, that is.

We had to work together for a project. When he finally tracked me down after a series of phone calls which I hadn’t gotten around to returning, he pointedly asked me if I was avoiding him or just really busy.

I should have known that he would be the demanding type, or at the very least, the clingy kind.

But the fact remained that we had to work together. Although grudgingly at first, we got to know each other. After a series of laughs indicating that he geniunely found my antics amusing, I came to a conclusion. I decided that despite the haughty way he crinkled his nose to show dislike, he wasn’t so bad. We spent more and more time together, long after the project that brought us together was finished.

Fate intervened before it could lead to anything more. He got a scholarship and went off to live overseas. I got married and went off to have Kiddo. The time difference allowed us to keep in touch while I breastfed during the wee hours of the morning and he stayed up studying (or partying). I became his long distance textmate. He became one of Kiddo’s godfathers.

He moved back to Manila. I moved out of the condo that I shared with Kiddo’s Dad.

The first year after, when my wedding anniversary came along, he took me on a honeymoon to Boracay so that I wouldn’t have to be alone. We’ve been celebrating my now defunct anniversary every year since, and have become totally inseparable.

He met my sister and all of my “Fantastic 4” friends and instantly won their approval. All my officemates and other friends who don’t know him personally, know of him because of my constant chatter about him saying this or him doing that. We consult each other about our careers and the poshness potential of various articles of clothing. Not a weekday goes by that we don’t call each other – several times during the day! -- when we’re bored or upset at work and need to take a breather from the day’s stress. (Actually, most of the time, we don't even need to talk, we just listen to each other typing, and after awhile, hang up). We publicly declare that we despise the clingy and needy, but know that secretly, we look for it in each other. We abhor whining and griping, but only when it's coming from others. We take pride in each other’s successes as if they were our own.

He was my Babe. I was his Honey.

When Kiddo and I went to one of his family functions and met his parents, we knew that it was time to formalize our relationship.

He made me his official girlfriend. I made him my official gay boyfriend.

Now that he answers his phone with “Hola!” and has a serious relationship, I have been bumped up to “wife”. He says that the upgrade allows me to still enjoy a distinct place in his life as the other half of our “Buy 1, Take 1” package. (And I thought that Kiddo and I were the only ones that came bundled together!)

And what an ideal wife I am, if I do say so myself. I’m self-supporting, willing to take on all the childcare responsibilities, and perfectly amenable to letting him pursue other extra-curricular activities on the side. Adequately funded, I even do all his Christmas shopping for him -- gifts are delivered to him for distribution, properly labelled and wrapped, with a list of who got what. So what if I can’t cook? Neither can he perform the uh, expected marital duties.

Maybe it’s exactly these deficiencies that make this “marriage” work, and what makes me his wife, or something like it.