He was a male model… He did tv commercials, but he mostly did ramp. He was goodlooking — in a boyish way. He was tall, he had this really dazzling smile… and a really hot bod. He was like a Ken doll.
He was a good friend of a boyfriend. Boyfriend used to do some modelling as well, so naturally he hang out with fellow models. That was how I met Mr. Ken doll.
When boyfriend left the country, I stayed in touch with some of his friends. When boyfriend eventually became an ex, Mr. Ken doll expressed interest in dating me… but didn’t really know if it was the right thing to do since I was the girlfriend of a good friend. It didn’t seem right. It was like crossing a boundary.
We did go out several times. We talked a lot. We laughed. We flirted. We watched basketball games together. We talked about our favorites — his was carrot cake, mine was coffee. We had a good time.
I liked being seen with him because he was a Ken doll… and I felt like I was Barbie. I was living very girl’s dream. I was every girl’s source of envy.
Going out with Ken made me forget about the heartbreak caused by long-distance boyfriend. I thought being with another goodlooking guy will fill the void left by an ex. In a way, it did. It did make me forget… but only for a short while.
Somehow the thrill of being with Ken was fleeting.
One night, I just suddenly realized that Ken and I didn’t have anything in common. I tried to dig deep to feel something towards him… some love or deep affection… yet I didn’t find any. There was fondness, yes, but that was just it. Nothing more.
Perhaps the only connection we truly had was the memory of my ex-boyfriend… his ex-friend.
We parted ways amicably. No tears, no drama. I never wondered what “could have been” because I knew Ken and I weren’t meant to be.
What I learned from the whole Ken experience is this: You really cannot force yourself to love — or even just like, LIKE — someone if your heart isn’t there. You cannot force yourself to feel a certain way towards someone. Or even if you do try, in your heart of hearts, you would know that you’re not fooling anybody else but yourself.
Kissing Ken may have been fun, but it didn’t make me his Barbie. He didn’t turn out to be my Prince Charming, too. Good thing we were both mature enough not to pretend we were something we weren’t.
Some things are really just not meant to be.
It’s Ken’s birthday today. And his real name’s Ron.
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photo via google images