. . . "Love is not the drama; its the comfort. When I realise that for myself, I will be an adult." . . -- Quoted from a chat friend . . . . I told my closest closest friend long ago how I believe a person is at his most vulnerable state when he's asleep; that without his awareness, he renders himself in a seemingly defenseless state. Being the tease that she was and still is, of course she disagreed and commenced with her interpolations. Sadly, I don't remember those arguments anymore. . . Last weekend, I met up with my "crumpet" three times -- one on Thursday along with two scorpios, on Friday where we went to meet the parents for a second time, and on Saturday when I came out from work past midnight. Friday night was very special and it made me rethink my Sleepless & Defenseless Theory over again. . . After meeting up in Galleria, we ate dinner at their house in Cainta. For those of you who know me, I am not a fan of long distance travel but last Friday, I found myself aboard public transport with my crumpet, braving the side glances of those who should know better. Dinner was modest -- friend noodles and chicken in coconut milk. School of Rock was on HBO so we decided to watch and be entertained. I swear, the Korean piano prodigy reminded me so much of my elementary days ... . . At around 10 pm, he decided we should go to Antipolo. Whoa ... I don't remember the last time I went there, probably when I was still this Jesuit schoolboy learning to play the piano and going there for a religious retreat. We rode 3 jeepneys going there and the wind was strong on a night where the streets weren't loaded with people and distractions. Riding through the hillside at night and with the cool breeze blowing through my skin reminded me so much of Baguio City. We landed at Eagle's Nest restaurant and settled on a little hut down the slope. . . The view of the metropolis was breathtaking. . . We sat side-by-side after a hefty meal, a couple of beers, and a bag of Doritos, and my crumpet felt sleepy. I offered my lap as a pillow and after talking a bit more, Toper fell asleep. So tired, so calm ... so vulnerable. But he was safe with me that night even as the mosquitoes commenced dinner on our sweaty selves. . . But I was mistaken. The more I looked at that tired sleepy calm, I was the one who became vulnerable. The gusts of wind, the sweat rolling down my forehead, the flickering lights of the city on a denouement made me aware that I was sitting on a slope, that at any time, I can slip and lose myself in the dark unknown. . . I was falling and it felt right. I wasn't asleep, but I was still vulnerable. . . .