Unbreakable

It is not the battles you fought along the way, but the skirmishes you avoided to win the war.

Mugen

2:48 am.

Phone vibrates. It registers an unknown number.

I answered it not knowing the identity of the caller. The message might be urgent.

"Kamusta, saan ka?" Asked the manly voice. I replied casually believing he was a friend I met earlier. 

"Nasa Cubao, asa jeep... Ikaw?"

"Teka, kilala mo ba ako? Si Bioman to."

"Alam ko." I answered indifferently.

"Paano mo nalaman?" He asked.

"Kakasabi mo pa lang."

Checkmate.

It was one of those Saturday nights. The "walang inuman" weekends when friends have their own night-outs and I'm left alone to set my own getaway. Fortunately that night, Desole Boy was available. I owe him a drink, after a year of not seeing him. Together with a couple of friends, we had a mini get-together to wrap up the week.

That same evening, I was exchanging posts with a Twitter acquaintance. Nothing fancy. Just a light banter when he said that he's alone and wanted to bring someone in his apartment. I merely said, "panood," then promised to bring "popcorn and sopdrinks." The exchange didn't prosper in public, but in direct message, I gave him my number.

Alam na.

But there was no mention of meet-up, or sex, or any sleazy encounter that sometimes happen when strangers get my number. The subtext was there, but it was never my intention to begin with. So when he called at daybreak to ask for my whereabouts, I knew where it was heading and quick decisions lead either to a "night filled with wonders" or a "loser's self-pleasure in a dark empty room." 

So the exchange went on.

"So saan ka na papunta niyan?"

"Pauwi ng bahay, sa Manila"

"Dito ko na lang umuwi sa akin." 

"Ang layo kaya ng Mandaluyong sa Cubao."

"Hindi ako sa Mandaluyong. sa Manila rin ako."

"Talaga? Saan sa Manila?"

"Santa Ana."

Under the influence of beer, I am disarmed. The one night stands usually happen at the dead of the night - when I have no control over lust, and my strongest need is to belong to someone - anyone who can make me feel. 

But half a year is enough to learn the game, the trade, or whatever playmates call it, and assuming the challenger turns out to be a pure top, defending that sealed passage may not be as effective as it had been in the past.

It has been almost a year, and the call to be drilled grows louder and more pronounced with every near misses. I've seen what needs to be seen - in pictures - and once that thing is in front of me, there's no certainty I can evade what he wants to happen.

"Out of the way, dude." a sigh of relief.

"Ganun ba?"

"Oo eh, sa susunod na lang."

In a time when everyone in my circle is either taken, soon-to-be-betrothed, or happily dating, a slice of me wishes to become part of someone, even for a forgettable night. And had he been nearer, more persuasive, or had I crashed to a new low for reasons of judgement, this entry might have been written very differently.

But prudence prevailed when abstinence was an option. Then and there, perhaps, with age's graceful wisdom and with laziness setting in, the final answer was an settling but unconvincing no.

Sex can wait.

Lust can be suppressed.

I looked at the side mirror with a faint smile on my face, as the empty jeep cruises to my destination.