I can hear the slow rock music captivating the hall. There are women dancing on the floor- swaying their hips and bodies to a tune that I am not familiar with. Some has men in their arms... men subserviently drifting away with their partners and the music. Men and women in each step of their feet crisscrossed with the life of the dance hall.
Then the world stopped... the room turned dark and the silence drowned the room. I stand frozen and the darkness is piercing my sight as I urge my brain to shift my reckless breathing into relaxed and rhythmic respirations. With my eyes closed, I could smell a man's perfume- strong and yet soothing. Then sporadically, as if the music is created underwater- fresh and shallow comes back into being. In sequence- piano, guitars, violin, drums and cymbals. This time, the music feels familiar but my cognition represses the memory of it. The drums sound synergistic with the thudding of my heart as if this heart inside the hurting chest commands the band. My senses are diluted in every way it should be, except this sight and touch.
I started to recreate a world out of the music: a large dimly lit banquet hall and a simple stage with a band of five unfaced men behind their instruments. No one else is here except for a man on a black suit with a fierce set of penetrating eyes and a sweet smile. His face feels familiar but his memory is lost. He seems to know me- every intricate detail in my being, every secret I have and thoughts that I had thought of and thoughts that I will think of in my tomorrows. He stares at me for long, longer than all my lovers' conversations. His face melts my reality and slowly I am being freed from the chains of my past and pain. He reaches out for my hand and as my fingertips touch his, I am permeated with a surge of joy and hope- the same emotions that had eluded me in years. With his strong grip, he led me to the center of the room. He puts my hand in his stalwart shoulders and slid his on my waist. He draws me intimately closer- too close that his smell vanishes and what is left to sense is his soft steady breathing drowning and pulling me immensely. His right hand clasped my left and he locked his fingers into my cold and sweaty fingers. I draw in one deep breath and he seems aware of it that he smiles, again. I can recognize his emotions but not his face- he seems very pleased.
The music changes its tempo. My heart seems to lose the baton of this hall's orchestra. He pulls me an inch closer ... too close that I lost the sight of his face and too proximate that I could only bury my face into his chest. I do not feel any discomfort because this man seems to belong to me and I to him. I look up to his face and tears are slowly rolling down his cheeks.
He leads me into a dance- his slow and assuring steps commencing a rhythmic waltzing around the hall. I am convalescing in his presence and I am willfully submitting into his grace. With the surge of joy, I can feel that my fears, my tears are gradually leaving a place of deceit, abandonment, insecurity and depression.
We dance the night.We dance until the day. We dance the days, weeks, months, years and moments away with each different music that our intertwined hearts are creating. We both could not feel any lost and recovery of physical energy because we are but a one body.
I can now recognize who he is- in the midst of the slow and quick tempo and the shifting grasp and embrace of his, this man is no longer my stranger. He is my love and the love that loves my darkness, flaws...my laughter, happiness...my soul and my being.
I am home and the dance stopped.
