And Lost Again

I don’t know how to handle this. I don’t know what to do when he holds me and I don’t know how to get from here to knowing him.

There is this pull, this allure from him, that I know that I cannot deny. When his hands are on my body I feel safe and I feel excited. I feel that same thrill and allure that I felt with the others but this time it doesn’t scare me. This time it feels so goddamn right.

I want him to make me his, to bring me… to bring me…

I don’t know what I want. Everything my body is aching for seems so sordid and uncouth and everything that is chaste doesn’t seem like enough. I want him to teach me, to guide me to understanding of my new body.

When his hand is on my hip it touches with such a friction that I know he knows how to help me too. When he spins and twists me. When he dips and swoops me. When he moves me so sure through all the movements I never knew that I knew I know that he can teach me so much more than I could have ever imagined. He can teach me how to be this woman.

How to be Emily.

I think I want to be Emily.

The music builds in power but not speed. My man in the mask spins me out to the apex and pulls me back in, twisting me in a spiral until I am crushed once more against the wall of him. I feel my breath escape me, gasping as I look up at him and he stares down at me and for a moment I can’t see anything but him and the light. I try to peer beneath the mask but I cannot make it through.

I need to know him.

My fingers curl up, reaching up for him. Tentative and slow but determined I push onwards, shaking as my bottom lip quivers and my eyes blink a little fast. Closer and closer but so slow like I don’t want to spook him but I don’t get the sense that anything can scare this man and just as my fingers are so close to him I am faced with the choice.

Remove the mask. Touch his lips.

I want both. I want to touch him and to be touched. I want… I want…

My thumb brushes against his bottom lip and my fingers press tentative into his mask. It is only the most momentary of connections, though, because the instant I do the world explodes into music once more and the moment is lost.

He pulls me away and I reach for him. I grasp the lapels of his suit and his hands grip onto my wrists and I wonder whether he’s going to push me away but as the music starts up and the crowd surges he pulls me into him and I am held tight against him as the grinding pounding begins once more.

I cling to him once more, again and forever. I hold fast to him and my eyes go wide as my lips part and I want to tell him everything that I am feeling right now.

And I speak, I swear to god that I do, but my words are lost in the music and I don’t even hear or know what they are and I don’t know whether he ever hears them himself.

We are held fast in the storm and I am shaking like a leaf and his hands are on my wrists but it isn’t enough to hold me when the crowd buffets like a wave. I am jostled to one side and I lose my grip, tumbling away from him and carried away into the crush.

I lose sight of him for an instant and it is enough to lose him forever. Pushing my way back only shows more people, only more bodies and more strangers but none of them the stranger that I want to see.

So that in the end I don’t even know if he is real or just a **** illusion of my mind but I know at the least that I am overwhelmed and I need out of here. The dancing is too much for me. I need a cold drink and I need a long break and I need to rethink things, to gain some clarity and some fucking perspective.

And I need out of this crowd which is surging once more, which feels like it has a singular mind and a need to consume and the only damn reason it hasn’t consumed me yet is the fact that it hasn’t noticed I’m back on the menu.

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