A relationship would not be a a good one when you don’t any difference at all. Imagine a relationship where all you talk about is the commonalities you have as a couple. It’s boring. Maybe what reminds me of this are the things that me and Belle McMesa had in our enjoy-it-while-it-last relationship. She was raised in a Chinese clan where all the riches of their relatives are there and accessible. I was raised in a Filipino clan (though my great grandfather is pure Japanese) and we lived with the mice, paro-parong bukid, bull frogs, rabbits, gabi plants, mango trees, santol trees, bayabas trees, aratiles trees, and a lot more that you could only see on vacant areas in Marikina. Yes, we were squaters and we had three houses before settling in permanently after several years of rag-life. Also, I’m six feet and she’s five feet (less than.) I’m thin (sexy) and she’s kind of the opposite of being thin. I’m a catholic and she’s non-catholic. I’m independent from my parents (I still live with my family), and she cannot go out without asking permission and consent from parents (in particular – her mother.) I’m not that aggressive in a way that I don’t start a fight immediately with other people, while she can go argue with other people when something is wrong (I admired her for that. I remember she argued with a cook when we saw tin cockroaches on the plate of what I was eating. I felt contented with a wife like that.) What else? Who wouldn’t agree that life would not be complete when you are with someone (or some people like of course, barkada) whom you do not have any difference at all?

TheReporterandTheGirlMINUSTheSuperMan!

“I forgawt my ūm-brella in da cawr”

“Your what?” He asked

“My umbrella” I repeated.

“Heh he heh…” He chuckled as he looked down

“What?!”  I demanded

“You say ‘um-brella’ weird…it’s like you weren’t born here sweetie!”  He crooned as he grabbed my chin as we made our way down the street into his apartment.

“Say it again…um-brella”

“That’s what I said…um-brella”

“No! Its not what you’re saying, um-brella, say it!”

“Um-brella!” I mimicked. “Are you happy, Jon?”

“That’s better” he smirked “Gotta speak American, boobigoops”

I am American, a Noo Yawker to be precise; born and raised in the Big Apple to immigrant parents, where English is the main language spoken in our home.  I attended private school until my formative years, where I then attended one of the top performing public high schools and number 1 non-specialized…

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