1. That was one of the best opening sequences I have seen in years.

2. The costume design was uncanny.

3. The cast was well thought of.

4. Laurie’s shattering scene was beautiful.

5. I found myself a bit underwhelmed with the portrayal of Dr. Manhattan.

6. I found myself immensely overwhelmed with Dr. Manhattan’s full frontal scenes.

7. Veidt’s characterization wasn’t misleading enough to let him off the hook (as villain) while the film started; maybe they should have put his assassination scene a bit earlier in sequence.

8. The major comic scenes literally felt like they came to life.

9. Silk Spectre I’s rape scene was painfully beautiful.

10. The Comedian’s death sequence was truly unforgettable.

11. I wish we had more of Bubastis.

12. The film is all about the Watchmen so a lot of the small gems that made the book shine were left as hints or minor details.

I liked the Watchmen movie. I think it’s beautifully made and the flaws it bore are forgivable. However, I must side with Mr. Moore in believing that the book is truly unfilmable.

Watch the film if you want. Read the book. It’s a must.

Because I wrote it.

 
Why do I have images of Victory Ford (Lindsay Price from Lipstick Jungle) here? I am trying to say something. If you followed the show or at least some of it, that's the closest I can liken what has happened to me in the last few weeks. I didn't see a whirlwind, but I find myself whisked off my feet for the most part without me expecting it. Well, not by this much at least. My schedule now also filling up with non-work agenda. I don't mind it at all. Between the the fancy dinners, nifty toys, and great company, things seem to be looking good for this side of my life. Why not? I am still single. Operative word: still. On the way home last night from dinner with his sister, he said the sweetest thing.

"I haven't been this persevering with someone. Ever. But it's okay, because I have a feeling it's worth it. I think you're worth it."

We're off to Tagaytay after lunch. Spa with a view. Sounds good doesn't it?

He calms me.

You should hear me sing it.

Against my bitter judgment, I decided to reply to his apology - what was supposed to be the last message I would receive from him after not talking to him for one day soon after we called it quits. By the time I stepped out his door, it was long over on my end. But his struggle had just begun.

Nearing the hour of mercy, my phone beeped and I read a message - I know you mean well by not contacting me at all. Thank you. And I'm so sorry for making this hard. I wish the circumstances were different. Sigh.

This I get after the day with no contact. Around 28 hours past the last touch base. I felt for the guy so I decided to reply. I fed him the drama he had wanted to hear. I wanted him to think I feel needy and abandoned. In truth, I am sad, but I had more practical endeavors to attend to. I shun a glimmer of hope from my tone because I wanted him to turn me down. I wanted him to feel like he had the control. I wanted him to be all right. He needed this. More than I do.

Just like how I told him when we decided to have the affair, "Don't worry about me, I no longer have a heart to be broken." He calls me Junior, a term of endearment we've derived from his age. By the third time we see each other, he called me baby.

I would be lying to you if I say I didn't fall for the guy. He was easily likable. Sweet and was actually my type. But fact of the matter is, he's not single. He's been in a relationship with someone for some four years now. And In my head I knew better. All I wanted was to be someone's. It just so happened the course to that in this case had to make me a secret. I liked it at first. The whole cinematic appeal of feeling something so right in doing something so wrong. It lived like a movie. We had rules, we followed them. Strictly. But in the end, the voice in my head got the better of me. Even before he decided to end it, I have already made up my mind. And I reminded him every single time we met by a whisper to his ears, "You can end this anytime. At your word." By the time he did, I had to show vulnerability. I wanted him to know it was fine. And I had woven a tale and an act to make him feel every natural emotion he should feel - even guilt that was heightened.

I'd like to say I feigned the tears glossing my eyes that fateful night. But I would be lying to no one but myself. I really like him but trudging on to this affair would simply short-change myself of what I deserve. I wasn't raised to be the third of a pair. I know what I can give back and I know or at least have an idea of what I deserve. Third, it was very unfair to his partner. Of course if it happened to me, I can just imagine how devastated I'd be. He doesn't know about the affair. Still. And I hope it stays that way.

I refused to answer his messages after I left his place last Tuesday night. He even wrote me an email apologizing for how things turned out. I smile at the back of my mind as I recognize the thrill of the guilt - and quite possibly how passionate he would hold his partner in his arms that night. "Sweet" I said to myself.

He liked me a lot, too. I read it. I heard it. I saw it. I felt it. And it was a nice feeling after such a long time.

But it was wrong. I don't want to meet the right guy by doing the wrong thing.

It had to end.

If things were different when we cross paths again, I'd close my eyes and say "Maybe."