Vancouver holiday

FROM NOVEMBER 6 to 15, I was in Vancouver, British Columbia to visit a childhood friend.

This friend means me well.

But she always plays the devil’s advocate to whatever I’m doing, or saying.

For one, she questions my state, and quality, of happiness.

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Of course, we argue.

Because she thinks I’m really unhappy deep inside.

I told her, she cannot judge me because we haven’t really seen each other in almost ten years.

She is honest about her state: She is unhappy where she is right now.

I’m thinking: She cannot project her unhappiness on me.

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She thinks I cover up my unhappiness with my well-curated life on social media.

I told her, But my life is well-curated!

I plan my days.

I do not allow myself to be controlled by anyone, or anything.

Not by her opinion, not by the public opinion.

Not even by time.

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I choose, and decide, what I post.

I choose, and decide, who I love.

I choose, and decide, when and how I get hurt.

My friend is worried that I look desperate trying to find a boyfriend.

I tell her: I’m not desperate.

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I really am not.

I’m just opening myself to possibilities.

I’m just saying “yes” to possibilities.

It only looks that I’m desperate because I put it out there on social media.

But aren’t the social media platforms the place to be seen, and noticed, nowadays?

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I will not deny that social media has become part of my life.

It is a big part of my success as an accessible person, and writer.

People contact me through social media.

People connect with me through Facebook, Instagram, Tweeter, YouTube, among other sites.

People identify with what I post on social media.

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People love me when I’m in love.

Some say I make them fall in love, too, with what I post.

Some say I remind them how it is to be truly in love.

I like that people react to my posts.

My life is somehow shaped by these posts, too.

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But people’s reaction do not make me.

In the end, I still choose, and decide, what’s best for my game.

What brings about the best version of myself.

But people should understand this: my fans are a big part of my life.

I am a celebrity.

I am an influencer.

My life is not ordinary.

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Because my friend is not a celebrity like me, she cannot understand how I live.

So, I seriously believe she cannot understand my happiness.

On the average, I get 207 likes on my Facebook posts; she gets 27 at the maximum.

After my husband died, I got boys when I wanted them (always my choice and decision).

She hasn’t had a dick in twelve years!

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How can someone who hasn’t got good sex in a long while decide, or judge, my own state of happiness?

With her background, how can I trust this friend who says, “You are unhappy because you are desperate for a partner.”

How can I let her question my quest for sexual relationships?

How can I let her say I’m desperate?

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My friend means well.

She says she just doesn’t want me to get hurt along the way in my search for a partner.

I believe her. I believe her good intentions.

But I think she is wrong.

She got it all wrong.

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I was in Vancouver, Canada feeling in love with someone in the Philippines.

I was kinda getting over him.

It was a process.

And I’m glad my friend was there when I was processing it.

As a devil’s advocate, she made me realize I’m doing the best moves for my game.

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Something happened in Canada this November that made me realize I really like (prefer, if you will) younger men; boys even.

I want them legal. Like 18 and above.

But not over 35.

I also realized that while I am beginning to like Filipino boys, the world offers me more possibilities.

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Let’s cut this story short.

I had a one-night stand in Vancouver.

It was fun. It was great. It was amazing.

He was just 22. Not Filipino.

But it didn’t matter.

He wanted me.

I turned him on.

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He wanted sex.

I wanted it, too.

We were two consenting adults.

It was raining in Vancouver, but we wanted to be both naked together.

I still remember him.

And how he kissed me!

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When I got home, my friend asked where I’ve been the whole night that I was out.

I told her everything.

My friend thought I was lying.

She would not believe I found a Canadian boy to f*ck that easy.

Apparently, my friend does not know ‘the’ Peter Solis Nery.

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I like listening to my friend.

And to all my friends, for that matter.

But I also like proving them wrong.

I like being liked by them.

But I also like pushing their limits.

My friends shape me somehow, but I do not let them shape me at all.

I listen to their advices, but only pick up what works for me.

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I do what I want to do.

I choose. I decide. I do.

And that makes me ‘the’ Peter Solis Nery. (500tinaga@gmail.com/PN)

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