that was nice. If he couldn’t read my mind, he could still read my body. My body was saying yes.
“I have honestly never felt anything like this before and even though I’m afraid – no, not afraid but concerned where we’re going. I’d be utterly inconsolable to have missed feeling this way – so completely at peace, in balance, stronger, smarter, more of a man, and better at everything. But, note this: there are some things that I’m already very good at.”
There was a masculine smugness in his voice.
“The experience is very much the same for me, Michael. I’ve never felt this soft on the inside or been this drawn to anyone. My senses have never been so alert, even electrified.”
The animal attraction could not be denied. Locked in his arms, I didn’t deny it and neither did he. We were distracted from our research as we relished the feel of each other. Our minds drifted in the contentment.
Each time the music ended we would reaffirm our need to figure it all out, only to be taken away again as soon as the next tune took us with a renewed hold. A couple of times during the musical interlude, we would mean to say something to add to what we already understood, only to laugh at ourselves because we waited to long and the music began again.
“We dance well together,” Michael commented.
“I’ve never felt this free – it’s probably because when I move, you move, you follow so well, I don’t feel as though I even have to think.”
He hesitated, perhaps, gauging my reaction before he continued.
“If we dance this well together, I bet we’d be champions at other stuff, too.”
He wasn’t masking what was on his mind?
“No doubt,” I replied in a distracted whisper.
That was the third time that Michael mentioned the next step for us in regards to our connection, the next step closer. That required some thought and discussion. I was worried that I’d have to do the right thing. I’d struggle with what the right thing was.
I’d not been thinking straight. Even though I got dizzy and sick when we weren’t connected, I’d a difficult time with mental control when we were closely connected. When the connection was strong, I lost my sense of inhibition and propriety. My brain seemed to forfeit my good reasoning skills. My much guarded vows – you know what a vow is – it’s a promise with God as the witness. Even though the need was clawing at me and the temptation was absolute, I reminded myself that I didn’t want to be less. The strength enough to honor my own values was what I needed. On the other hand, there was worry that I’d pass up something that happens once in a life time, that I’d miss out on the surprises in life that made it all worth while.
As a slave to my own beliefs, would I miss the good and exciting things in life because I thought I was above it all? I’m not a “goody two shoes” and don’t wish to be but I do have high moral standards and hold myself to them. The question here was ‘Could sickness cause one to need to break one’s vows’? Anticipating breaking my vows, I hoped to be so sick that I’d have to break my vows to survive. Someone was going to have to do a lot of talking to convince me that I shouldn’t break those vows. Someone would have to convince me that there was even a God to care if I broke those vows.
We held ourselves close to each other. It felt good and safe but my brain seemed foggy. My thoughts were difficult to organize. The stress of trying to sort out my thoughts was frustrating and fruitless. For a time, I let my brain go blank I didn’t want to struggle with it. I just wanted to be held tightly and to be led around the dance floor. I felt him adjust his grip as he propelled us into repeating circles.
My focus went to him, to his feet and legs, the way they touched mine indicating our intended direction. I loved to dance but it had never been that easy before or so natural with every step evenly gliding into the next. His hands were firm and authoritative with just the smallest amount of pressure to let me know his objective. The whole team process was effortless; I didn’t’ need to think in order to execute his choices.
My brain could focus on the way the phenomenon felt, the way my body reacted to the minutest change in pressure; there was no hesitation, just the recognition and the execution. The tune was winding down and I anticipated a change. Michael moved his right hand to the center of my back and dipped me deeply at the climax. As he brought me back up, a squeal of pure joy escaped my lips which made him laugh. His laugh, a sweet sound, gave me even more pleasure.
Until the next selection started we remained wrapped tightly in each other’s arms. I had my arms around his neck with my hands cradling his head, fingers in his hair, his head was tucked into the corner of my neck and his arms wound snuggly around my waist. Just before the music started, I felt a very strange déjà vu like – another memory to tuck away for future examination. We waited for the music to begin again.
“I’ve been thinking,” Michael started, “about how we are going to get through the night.”
Then pressed his lips to my hair and kissed me – a possessive gesture, perhaps.
Quite sure that Michael was having his own thoughts about how we would spend the night, I formed a simple plan.
“Michael,” I began slowly, wanting his full attention and because I was still trying to hold my focus.
“How about an old fashioned sleep over, under the stars, on my balcony, the two chaise lounges, pillows, blankets, music, and maybe drinks and pinkies, talk …?”
That felt like a conscious well presented thought. I had a moment of clarity; crap, does that mean I’m not really a slave to my baser animal needs?
He barely hesitated.
“That’s a plan.”
There was comfort for both of us in knowing that we had a small part of the future planned. We could relax and enjoy the evening. The music started, renewing our grips, we responded like we were one. How easy it was to match and to counter his movement. Then I was aware of his breath on my neck, conversation was out at that point. The fog returned there wasn’t a coherent thought in my head. There was only the exhilaration of the shared experience, the dance.
The bliss continued until the music ended – well, maybe a bit after the music ended. It took us awhile before we realized that the music had indeed ended. For, what was possibly a very long time, we stood locked in a tight embrace, each point of contact a heated haze of electric attractions and reactions, effected by every tiny change in pressure and temperature, stimulating nerve ends and raising goose bumps, causing thirst, needing more and waiting for the next tune to begin.
Michael was the first to come around.
“Shall I put another CD in?”
He stepped back to see the look on my face as I responded. When he stepped back, he created open space between us. For me that gap cleared the foggy curtain in my brain. He saw something in my eyes and stepped back into me just as I raised my hand to stop him. I needed to keep the clarity for a moment. There was no ebb in our connection but we did have a modicum of distance between us.
I took advantage of the lucidity to make my needs known. I could sink into that desire and not be able to come out of it but control was very important to me and necessary for my principled life. Sometimes we have to do stuff that doesn’t feel so good but its right so we do it or in this case don’t do it.
