not sure.”
I raised myself to a sitting position. We found ourselves face to face. We both looked down at our joined pinkies.
Michael said, “I’m not ready to talk about it.”
His voice was austere and too quick.
“Fine by me.”
I came back at him with the same level of vehemence.
“But, Michael, we are going to have to talk about it sometime.”
“Right now, I’m more concerned with how we’re going to be able to be apart long enough to even get ready for dinner.” He confessed.
“I got truly sick, physically sick, when I was away from you. Time had no meaning and I couldn’t think. I’m pretty sure that I suffered an anxiety attack.”
“I’m in the same boat. No pun intended,” I admitted.
“It’s 5:00 right now; we have two hours until dinner. Let’s try disconnecting for short periods of time at first. Maybe we can desensitize ourselves over a period of time.” He made plans for us.
“Can we start right now?”
I had to pee again and headed for my stateroom via the back door. He was reluctant to let me go.
“I’m going to take a quick shower – 20 minutes tops and then we’ll reconnect.” I tried to be encouraging.
He smiled at me briefly and then gave me the go ahead.
We released our hold and I ran, without looking back. I ran straight into my bathroom, stripped, took a shower and washed my hair. Dried my hair, plugged in the rollers, and put a touch of make-up on. That was as far as I got before I was hit with a huge wave of unease and fear. I was gripped with a sadness that was unbearable.
I heard a knock on my slider; trying not to cry, I saw it was Michael and the tears filled my eyes as I ran to open the door, wishing that I had not locked it. The look on his face was confused and wild. He was having a panic attack.
When the slider opened, he flew into the room and launched himself at me, wrapping his arms around me and burying his face in my neck. I responded in like manner. We stood in the middle of the room bound up into each other’s arms. We luxuriated in the reconnect. The calm returned and we both took some deep breaths. Still not loosening our tight embrace, we moved in unison to my bed and sat down. You would think that it would be awkward but our tenacious grip gave us the support we needed not to fall off the bed. Neither of us was in any kind of hurry to let go, so we stayed glued as one for a good 3 minutes.
Eventually Michael felt around for the pinkie on my left hand and hooked up. We released each other except for the pinkie connection.
“Ok, Helen, that was too long. How much did you get done?”
He was revising the plan.
“We shouldn’t chance it for any more than 10 minutes; ok?”
“I need more than 10 minutes, 15 should do it. How about you?”
“15 it is then.” He looked the way I felt, confused.
“Why don’t we stop for a few minutes and smoke a bowl?” I offered.
“Good idea,” he came back.
I prepared our bowl with finesse even with Michael unwilling to disconnect. I presented him with green. He nodded and said, “After you.” We enjoyed the ritual of the smoke and then we welcomed the mellow.
It was 6:00 o’clock; we had one hour before dinner. Michael said, “I’m going next door to do what I can before I get sick. As soon as I start to loose it, I’ll be back.”
“Don’t let go just yet, please. I need to make mental plans to get as much done as possible.” I gathered my thoughts for a minute.
“Ok, Michael, let’s try it again.”
Michael looked at me with worry oozing from his eyes; he smiled that brave smile; leaned down and kissed the tip of my nose; dropped my pinkie and was out the door.
The rollers were hot; I set my hair at break-neck speed. I finished up with some bathroom stuff, found my shoes, and put the dress on. My pace relaxed after being clothed. I removed the rollers from my hair, ran a brush through my fresh curls and then I got light-headed. I grabbed at the wall to keep myself from falling. Oh God, I knew that feeling and I couldn’t stand it. The anxiety in my chest was pressing into my lungs. I needed Michael!
I headed for the balcony; Michael was just coming through the slider. His face was white with panic; he was empty and truly distressed. We came together in a solid, full-body impact that was the sweetest relief. Encased within each other’s arms, we worked to get even closer. We buried our faces in each other’s shoulders, chins, and necks. We took great gasps of air, filling our nostrils with the other’s scent. We understood the damage, we felt the damage and with the reconnect, the repair.
As forceful as the attack itself, the relief from it was absolutely exhilarating. That connection originated deep within the roots of our beings, basic and nurturing. We welcomed the calm; it felt so good, we held on longer. Eventually we raised our hands up like we were going to high-five and hooked pinkies.
“Oh, you almost got your pants on.” I joked as I watched him zip up.
I stepped back to get a good look at him.
“There couldn’t be much to do. You look pretty well put together, to me.”
“I’m lucky I didn’t piss all over my self. That was extreme. Wouldn’t you agree?”
He was moving his hands all over the place while he talked dragging my poor pinkie along. I resisted all the tugging and then slowly, slowly leaned into him; he calmed down.
“In my opinion,” I began.
“That was extreme and I’m glad you didn’t piss all over yourself because this is only the second time I’ve ever worn this dress.”
“Ok then. If you’re ready and you look ready, I’m ready. So, let’s go see.”
Michael mumbled as he released my pinkie and took my hand. The change was intense and immediate and not to be denied. All of our senses were heightened; it was like going from black and white to living color, everything got brighter, in every sense of the word. Everything got better. We headed for the balcony and to the rest of the evening.
Dinner Again
As we walked through my balcony, Michael stopped, handed me the CDs and then snagged the player. He made concessions for the fact that we were only using one hand, well, actually 2 hands, one of his and one of mine. We had demonstrated that we could work together as one. We made our way to his balcony and found that the dinner was set up on the big table brought out there by the room service staff.
“I’m surprised to see everything set up, I deserted them while they were working. I had no choice. They didn’t get a tip.”
“Don’t
