If One Day I Will Have A Son…..

Father and Son
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If One day I will have a son, I would have him enter the world, in a slow motion the-matrix style manner. he will be like Neo for he will be the one. he could even wear shades for all I care. Whether he’ll go out from her mother through a birth canal or through her abdomen, whether against his will or not, whether term or preterm, I want the first moment when my eyes meet his eyes, my skin touches his, when my lips kisses his delicate, moist body, I want that scene to be spit into milliseconds and further milliseconds more. I will have every single gasp, and grimace, and movement, recorded and not a single thing missed.

I would tell him that it’s okay to cry because that will be the best indication that he is filling his lungs with air.
I would tell him that it’s ok to clench his fist, that means his muscle is toned good and coordinated
I would tell him to shout all he can, because that means he wants to be heard, to be welcomed, to be understood… That he needs something
I would tell him it’s okay to sleep for 18 hours or even 20 hours a day if he want, as long as he would promise to wake up the next day.
I would tell him to smile on contact as early as the first month not just because the doctors suggests so, but because our world becomes colored and more complete and vibrant and draws a smile on me and her mom, too, just for a simple reflex smile.

I would have him perfect
And damaged
And sweet
And bitter
And brave
And scared
And everything
And something
And nothing

Whatever circumstance life may require of him

I will set him loose to the world and he could do everything he wants, as long as he own up to his actions and stand by it. To stand by repercussions and consequences. To savor the good things, and control the bad. I’d tell him it’s ok to make a few little screw ups in this life, but heck, don’t abuse that privilege.

I will tell him to be careful with breaking hearts, and take care of his heart as well. I’d remind him that girls are fragile and complicated and gives you a bunch of headaches and not to mention erections, but all the more you should love them, for in that labyrinth of trying to figure them out, of trying to reason out that it doesn’t matter if her dress is blue or red, of bending pride and mumbling apologies, one day, you will see beyond that. And you will become a better man after.

I will tell him, “Son, She will make you feel something that even alcohol and basketball can’t give you, she will make you choose between her and your friends, or brods, or family or tv shows, and it’s okay if you don’t choose her. But it’s also okay to choose her, as well. Whatever you decide, because you know what? I know you wont listen to my advise anyway, even to your mom, and to your friends, and even to yourself – if you get hurt, it’s okay. In case that happens, I will make a stash of wine in our living room, and i hope you figure out one day that i left it open for you. Break it in case of a heart emergency. Or better yet, run to me. tell me about it, son, i won’t scold you, maybe ill laugh at you for a while, but hey, the drink is on me anyway. And yes, I wont tell your mom what we talked about. But please don’t expect me to fix things up for you, no, I wont do that, I can only suggest and strongly suggest and forcefully suggest to you, but then again it’s your call. Its your heart and penis anyway.

My son, I will tell him, the world out there is harsh on you, and you will be prone to infections and discrimination..
It will be not okay to cry, for it then be called weakness.
I will not be okay to clench your fist because it will be called anger, or if you’re unlucky, will be called rebellion.
It will not be ok to shout and have a say, because you will ruffle sensitive feathers no matter whose side you will take on. Even of you take none.
It will not be okay to sleep because you will miss out something that needs doing, there’s always that something that needs to be done.

But don’t let them convince you, cause otherwise, they will.

But in case of bad days and rainy days and gloomy nights and drunk early mornings at the end of it all, you can always scoot beside me and your mom in our bed, we’d lie beside you. On both sides. No mater how big you will be. Or how bad alcohol smells on you. Our hug will be powerful enough to shut the world… And there will only be us, three.

You can cry,
clench your first,
say all you can,
Or we could just sleep
whatever you want, my little boy, you are home.

There may be times, my son, that you will shout a me, ‘buhay ko to’ and all that stupid lines you watch on tv (‘akala mo lang wala pero meron meron meron’), but always remind yourself that we don’t do this just because half of your chromosomes are from my testicles, and not because i spent a lot for your goddamn guitar lessons, basketball lessons, different workshops, gym membership, school and clubs and shit and not expect a return of investment – it is because of the simple fact that I Love You (yes i got that one from Vilma Santos)

…Maybe we’re stepping in your world probably more than you want us to be… I understand. But hear me out just this time… Son, it was because when you were born, the world was in slow motion, and all the world was you., you entered the universe and we let you into our world with warm hands and teary eyes, in that moment i remember it’s as if im on that room again, the smell of the operating room, the sound of your cry, and slipperiness of your skin, and you… at that moment… you were just everything we have, full of life, full of hope, and full of promises, full of tears. In that very moment, we cried with you.

Perhaps we’re stepping in your world more than you want us to be… For that, im sorry. We just cant accept the fact that one day, we have to step away from it.

If this is you, son, one day reading this… If ever I didn’t live up to your expectations, i am sorry. But from this sorry, at least know now what not to do. Don’t idolize me too much that you’ll even copy my mistakes.

Write your own book, make your own path, tell your own story.

Remember, son, You are better than me.
You must fucking be.

(this is inspired from Sarah Kaye’s “B” / “If I should have a daughter”, one of the best works ive ever seen)

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