Martin is not related to Bill, Hillary and the late Virginia Kelly. He has nothing to do with the Clintons. Neither do the Clintons know that his marriage has just been annulled. After all, they have their own marital problems – and wags are saying that their union may end in divorce after Bill’s presidency. By then, if Hillary beats Rick Lazio in the New York Senatorial race, she would be Senator while Bill would be a private citizen. And some political palm readers are saying that it’s all the way to the presidency for Hillary Rodham. And remember, this is not alien territory for Hillary Rodham who was student council president at Wellesley and who is herself a brilliant legal mind.
In the meantime, Martin will still be singing songs and touching lives and will still believe in forever. Martin will still enjoy sunsets and will continue to write poetry about love and wildflowers. It could have been Martin Nievera that Walt Whitman, the 19th century poet, had in mind when he wrote Song of Myself found in his book of poetry – Leaves of Grass. A few lines from the poem read,
"Do I contradict Myself?/ Very Well then, I contradict myself./ I am large, I contain multitudes."
(By the way, this is the book Bill gave Monica Lewinsky during their inappropriate affair.)
Martin in his eternal boyhood is complex, painfully honest. He is large and he contains multitudes. The pathos and joy that he breathes into his songs come from his large heart that loves in wild abandon; the passion that echoes in his poetry comes from the contradictions of the same heart. Martin is the greatest balladeer of this generation because he is the most giving, the most generous heart that gives it all until there’s nothing left except pain.
That day, our friend Ricky Lo broke the news about the annulment of his marriage – Martin was devastated – not because he didn’t expect it. For how could he not have expected it; when it was filed, he didn’t contest it. But it was the boy Martin who was completely broken by an annulment that swayed like a deadly pendulum right before his face. He felt that it should have taken a little longer, so that he could have gotten used to how it was to be separado. He needed more time so that the children would naturally understand the separate courses Pops and he were taking.
Pops perhaps should have called him when she learned about it. A grown-up would probably realize that it would have been awkward for Pops to call and say, "Hey, Marts! We’re annulled!" Kris Aquino, on The Buzz, said so. But the boy in Martin was longing for a little more kindness not necessarily from Pops but from the whole universe around him. He even needed kindness from himself.
That morning he called me, Martin was a boy who needed a friend to listen to him. He doesn’t mind being spanked for as long as you let him cry.
A boy doesn’t always make sense. Just like Martin in his depressive moments. But he’s not always wrong either. And even when he is insanely disconnected, I emphatize with him because he always speaks from his heart. He is so goddamn honest – he’ll go to hell or heaven – because he’ll say what he feels.
In ASAP, Pops extended her hand and said something about friendship and asked Martin if he would watch her movie Gusto Ko Nang Lumigaya. The boy Martin extended his hand, too, but could not say anything. He could not conceal the pain in his face. He was in agony. On The Buzz that same day, he said that an embrace or a hug would have been more meaningful (after all, he said, they were not very ordinary friends having lived together for over a decade and having been blessed with two boys).
A grown-up would say that Pops was just being honest and it would have been awkward and melodramatic to embrace or hug. But not to a boy like Martin. To him, a thank you or goodbye is said with one’s body and soul. There are no middle emotions for children. Even if one is a child-king like Martin. Boys are either happy or sad. They never calculate emotions. Even when they commit grievous mistakes, they bring along everything.
To Martin, it means so much that he didn’t file for annulment. It means so much to him that he admitted to having sinned against Pops and he did try to correct his mistakes; a grown-up would say that the pain Pops had to suffer was unbearably excruciating. That it was never easy – it was never easy to forget, to forgive, that it needed time, a lifetime to heal.
In a broken marriage/relationship, both parties are correct and both are wrong in many respects. And the debate can go on and on until forever.
Martin has committed many mistakes in his life. As a friend, I do not condone Martin’s sporadic madness. I tell him straight to his face when he’s wrong. And I also assure him when he’s right.
But whether he’s right or wrong, I stand by him.
For the past 18 years in his illustrious career as the premier pop artist of this country, I learned that the only way to handle Martin is not to understand him – because he is so multitudinous, it would be downright imbecilic to even try to parse his puerile logic. You have to love him. You have to understand him with your heart.
Just like a child-king, you admire him, you revere him with your heart – hoping to teach him a few tricks about life. But like most young royals, admittedly, he is difficult to teach.
But when Martin opens his mouth to sing, you kneel in sacred revelry. And he reigns supreme!