Dik Was Jerking
Exactly what Brenda, my travelling companion on my first trip to Lake Como, nonchalantly told our host Cynthia this morning while we waited for our ferry to Menaggio, a town on Lake Como. I felt a mix of surprise and embarrassment, thinking nothing could shock me anymore. Still, I wasn’t ready for this one, especially when Cynthia pretended to be surprised and asked Brenda in Tagalog if indeed I was.
Brenda and I shared the same bedroom in Nesso, with two separate beds. Apparently, I was having a nightmare that I was uncontrollably tossing and moaning in bed, spasmodically. The noise I made disturbed her from a deep slumber, and she tried to wake me up by calling my name, she said. I remember waking up and thinking she was having a bad dream.
But jerking? By this, she meant it was like I was having an epileptic episode. Epilepsy equals body jerking — it made sense, right? Or so I thought, until I realized how absurd I sounded explaining it. It took me a while to realize it wasn’t what I was thinking she meant. I have wrongly interpreted it. Blame my poor knowledge of the English language. Oh, sure!
Later that day, I left my A&F sweatshirt at the restaurant where we had lunch and realized it was missing only when we were already two ferry destinations away from the last station. Losing it felt like losing a part of Walter’s memory, which made me feel deeply connected and vulnerable, more than I expected.
The sweatshirt meant so much to me because it symbolized my bond with Walter, who had the same one — Partner look, you see. It represented comfort and shared memories, making its loss feel like losing a part of him. Today, I received a message from him saying he found it, buried in his wardrobe, underneath his collection of hundreds of A&F shirts. And today I lost mine, forever, I thought.
It was sad. I have lost so many tangible things in the past, and it never bothered me that much, most recently that garnet necklace pendant I have already told you about. I lost it, and there was nothing I could do about it. No use sulking. I lost my virginity many ejaculations ago, a hundred years ago. It may have hurt — I don’t remember anymore — but something soon forgotten compared to how I felt today losing the sweatshirt.
The sweatshirt meant so much to me because Walter had the same one — Partner look, you see. When I got it back, I felt a wave of relief and gratitude, knowing that faith and kindness can surprise us when we least expect them.
I took a deep breath, wanted to scream from the top of my lungs, and jerk. Oh, you know, the dance!