No Failure of Expectations

I wonder what it would be like to be courted.

Specifically, to be courted by my boyfriend.

Our love story is far from traditional (but I would not have it any other way). It isn’t like the love stories that your parents would probably tell you with a far-away look in their eyes, clearly reminiscing their Halcyon days, where your father had more hair and when your mother was probably 3 sizes smaller than she is right now. Theirs is the love story that may involve the following staples: the harana, the love letters, the awkward asking out, the many dates, the classic putting-your-best-foot-forward stance of the boys, the default hard-to-get setting of the girls, the random small sweet gifts, the chocolates and flowers and all the sweet nothings Hallmark can  manufacture.  Our love story on the other hand, is more, thought out, decisive, no nonsense, almost to the point of being logical, even practical. Don’t get me wrong, our love story has its share of dramatics and kilig, in fact, even more than your average. Modesty aside, it has the makings of a blockbuster Filipino romantic comedy movie. But for all its worth, I can’t help but imagine how it must be like to be courted by my boyfriend. That’s probably the small, girly girl part of my brain being irrational and hopeless romantic. I guess, what they say is true. No matter how boyish, logical and seemingly guy-brained a girl might be, she ultimately still wants to be treated like the princess, the damsel in distress, the almost unreachable dream being chased.

And so here I am wondering how it would be like, and how it would feel like being courted by him. I vaguely remember him telling me if he courts someone, he would be all out, giving his 100%.

First and foremost, he would probably ask permission to court me, from the one who took care of me since I was a kid, from my parents and family, from my close friends and from God.

Maybe he is probably be the type who would regularly text me good morning, good noon kumain ka na ba?, good night and sweet dreams almost everyday, especially during the first quarter or so of our relationship under the guise of courtship.

He would probably give me something during monthsaries, or take me out to a pretty place with both of us wearing pretty clothes, trying to create a mature conversation out of the little that we know of each other.

He may even give me flowers and chocolates on random days.

Maybe he would surprise me every now and then at the office, with a packed lunch, and we would have a conversation over coffee, just going through each of our days, probably with him having the time of his life dishing out details of his activities, while I fumble with words in trying to break down the one word answer I’ve prepared hours before.

Maybe he would set-up a romantic getaway, with help and permission of course from the rightful officers, and take me somewhere less chaotic for a while, where we could focus on getting to know each other better.

He would probably bring food every time he visits my place, for my mother figure and me.

I am quite sure he would be the type to compose a song and sing it to me during a birthday surprise that he prepared especially for me (he did tell me he would’ve done this if he had more time and more funds, that was back when he was in law school).

He’d probably bring me to somewhere faith-related and talk to me about God and I would too.

I would eventually warm-up to him and share to him my deepest darkest secrets. I would probably tear down my walls and let him in my heart, with caution, but with complete trust that he won’t be the same as the others.

I would probably say yes,when he pops the question in a roof deck of a school, and we would probably hug, with the wind blowing our hair, and a faint romantic song would be heard in the background.

And at that moment, we would be the happiest couple in the world.

Then he probably wouldn’t be as consistent in saying good morning and good night. Maybe I would probably text him first almost all the time. And he would reply, he always will.

Then the little gifts would slowly die down, as it is not sustainable, and because he would have different priorities now, than spending on small useless knickknacks to give me on days with no occasion.

The flowers, chocolates and bears would be scarce and seldom.

We would still talk of course, this time about serious things, personal things, but also including fun things. We’d probably talk about anything under the sun.

He would inevitably treat me as his best friend and companion for life, rather than his girlfriend.

And those romantic moves would stop or be minimal, or be something else because we would have to be more practical now, and those are usually only reserved for courtship. Now we are in a relationship. It is now different.

And I would probably be happy and content, because I know how lucky I am to have someone like him, but be disappointed at the same time, because, boys will be boys: little consistency, and once they get what they want, it’s all downhill from there — and he, however perfect, may be no different.

And I will be stuck, with the same far-away look as your parents, reminiscing the Halcyon days, when I was the princess, the damsel in distress — the almost unreachable dream being chased.

.

.

.

Thank God we never went through that abhorrent courtship stage.