BAZI

𝑰 𝑹𝒂𝒏 𝑶𝒖𝒓 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝑺𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚 𝑻𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒂 𝑩𝒂𝒁𝒊 𝑬𝒏𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒆. 𝑰𝒕 𝑺𝒂𝒊𝒅: 𝑺𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝑯𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝑮𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝑨𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒂

There is a man who would recognize this story. The ship. The internet cafe next to the photo gallery. The gaze.

Solar-powered gaydar. Never fails.

The day we said our first I love you, a fire broke out on the ship. Three thousand passengers. Fifteen hundred crew. I was ready to die at sea in love like a Filipino gay Jack Dawson who actually deserved the door.

We did not die. We lasted years instead. Which, in the end, was the longer suffering.

Now here is where it gets good.

The head office offered me a photography contract to Antarctica. I was going to see penguins. Real ones. In their natural habitat. Waddling around unbothered, committed to their one partner for life, because penguins do that. Loyal by design.

He said no. Without asking me. Told my manager not to let me go. Because he loved me.

I never saw the penguins.

He, it turned out, was not a penguin.

I stayed longer than I should have. Long enough that I became a person I did not like. Unkind…