I found strength in dance. The following is a description of my first contact improv movement with a fellow classmate. I had no idea how this experience would unfold and continue to enlighten me well after the physical contact between us had resolved:
In micro-movements we connected up to our shoulders, then our backs. We paused to find our balance. A forward bend in me meant a backward bend in him. We continued to focus on the energy and static between us. As we slowly connected internally, the surface area of where our external bodies touched increased. Soon we were on the floor, my heart and stomach wrapped around his side. Our centers of gravity had a magnetization that felt warm and heavy. I felt a tremble in his skin. I paused. Is this ok? Can I do this? Is this safe? I waited. He didn't push me, he remained still. I felt his secure containment of our energy, and I went deeper. Deeper into my self, deeper into that black space of the unknown. The abyss of surrender. I felt the heat of his body, his muscles supporting my weight and his careful gauging of where to go next. We found our ending. Our continuous flow of inching movement slowly dissipated as energetically we checked in with each other asking where to go, and how to get there.
The changes afoot are flipping behavior patterns in my relationships that I have been practicing for over 17 years. I no longer find it necessary to be seduced by those who don’t regard me as possessing the ability to make time stand still. The imprints left by my first primary relationships are fading and being replaced with blueprints for my future. Which by design are more fulfilling and simply more fun. I am finding thrill in surrender, not the chase.
The rain gently tapped the surface of my well loved umbrella, as I hopped over puddles to meet date#10 at Pono Hawaiian Grill. The loud and lively restaurant was full of hip twenty-somethings whose weekend nightlife, was clearly about to begin. I waited inside for his late arrival. When he walked through the door I told him I was relieved that he strongly resembled his picture, due to my unrelenting fears of not being able to recognize each other. He was tall and eyes were kind. He just turned 28 and had a spry energy about him. We stood at the counter and we’re about to order, when he said “Are you sure you want to eat here?” I was glad he asked, because it was pretty noisy, and not very conducive to having a intimate conversation. We walked outside to think about it. It was still pouring rain. He suggested the restaurant/lounge above the Red Room. We headed in that direction and I opened my umbrella. Due to his height, the exposed spokes were pointed right at his eye level. If we became too close to each other I would have certainly impaled one. We joked and laughed about the amount of skill required on my part, to not hurt him during our walk to our next destination. We also discussed possible ways to repair my veteran umbrella. On his profile he mentioned that he likes to write and keeps a journal. In our e-mails I told him I too was a writer, and he asked the nature of my writing. I blew my own cover and revealed I was writing a blog. He told me he was interested.
As we were walking downtown looking for a suitable place to eat, he asked “So what are you bloggging about? Your online dating?”
“Yes”, I replied. Geez, this guy really knew how to ask the right questions. We laughed about how he was the first of all my dates thus far to to know about the blog at the beginning of the date. Finally, after fifteen minutes of walking in the rain, we ended up at Shogun and ordered 4 rolls to share. He explained that he grew up locally and went to UCSC majoring in Literature and Psychology. We conversed about the usual subjects, connectedness, psychology and whats going on for me in school. And since he knew about the blog, I mentioned, at times it was all consuming. I explained, it had taken on a life of its own and some weeks I find it to be emotionally exhausting. We sat at the restaurant until they closed. I was having a great time. I was also craving that physical closeness and was honoring the fact that I now looked at sex in a new light. I wondered if it was appropriate to spend more time together alone. He asked me if I had roommates, I said no. I asked him if he had any, he said no. “So does that mean we could go to your house to watch a movie?”, I said. He looked at me surprised, “Would you want to do that?” he replied, I said maybe. We left the restaurant and I told him for safety sake, we should share his umbrella. We walked back to his car. We paused for a second and then he just grabbed me and kissed me hard. It was quite romantic, standing in the rain, under his umbrella as we kissed and I began to feel the solid lines that separated me from him, blur. His kiss was strong, but his lips were soft. I had to tilt my head upward to kiss him and in doing so, I felt his inherent masculine influence radiating down upon me. He asked me if I wanted to go back to his house. I said yes.
We headed toward midtown and before I knew it we were pulling into the carport of his apartment building. I suddenly realized that I had not been paying attention at all, and had no idea where we were. He explained our location, but I thought it was so funny that the kissing chemicals had already set in. We walked into his house. It was a nice one bedroom with some Ikea furniture. It looked lived in, but not messy. We took a seat on his couch and we talked. He lit a candle and we began to kiss. He was into me. He came on strong. I liked him but I was beginning to get the feeling that I had activated a primal urge, and I was feeling left out. I began to feel my self tense up. I started to become uncomfortable. In a burst of forward reflection, I thought to myself. Here is a nice guy. He is clearly interested in me and is attracted to me in a big way. What’s going on inside me? And what’s is my perception of whats going on with him? I quickly came to the conclusion that “what was going on with him”, was that he really liked me. He was not forcing himself on me, he was really into me. I acknowledged that I typically feel more comfortable when a guy is not into me. I feel more in control. I weighed my options, do I want to pursue relationships with men that are genuinely interested me? or do I want to continue to go for guys who could care less about me, but as a trade off I feel less vulnerable? In that 3 second window I made my decision. I want the guy that’s into me.
I was found him alluring. He was smart, driven, a great conversationalist and quite handsome. I thought how can I remedy the fact that this interaction, regardless of motives, was still making me slightly uncomfortable? I told him it felt rushed. He said he knew what I meant. He said he wanted to take my clothes off but he knew, on some level that wasn’t the next step. We continued kissing and I continued to fluctuate between landing on different levels of ease. I knew If I told him I wanted things to stop, there is no doubt in my mind, that he would have arrested his actions completely and left it at that. However I wanted him. I liked him and and I wanted to feel sexually connected.
He took up most of the length of the couch, from underneath his well supported weight I looked him straight in the eye and said “I can tell when your present and I can feel when your not”. He looked at me with great consideration, contemplation and concern. He told me, no ones ever said anything like that to him before. “I need you to pay attention” I said. Then, he payed attention. Everything slowed down. When it got too intense for me, I pulled back and made eye contact with him. He looked back at me as if he could sense an innocence in me. And in turn I saw the innocence in him. He clearly listened to what I had suggested and was a very quick study. We continued to kiss and touch for hours. It was intoxicating. I felt my anxiety melt away. I felt my power increase and grow. I felt our movements were an even exchange of feelings, attraction and passion. I felt the soft vulnerable, sweetness that happens between two people with a mutual liking. Eventually we had sex. There was never a moment when I thought to myself he is using me. We were both there together, we maintained long periods of eye contact. He gently pulled my hair at my request. He was proving to me that I was all his. That I was important to him. For the first time I ever, I saw his confidence and desire for me as a welcomed term of endearment, rather than a threat. He was on top, but he never crushed me with the weight of his body, he was conscientious of me. I came. He came. I saw a single drip of his sweat run onto my shoulder and down my arm. It was beautiful. We lay deep in one another’s arms. We talked. It felt as if we completely saturated each other.
He shared a story of great loss and I broke all the rules of a first date by telling him all three secrets in a row. He asked me if there were of any of my rules that we didn’t break. I thought about it and said, nope. We broke them all. At 3:30 am my eyes were too weary to stay open and I lay my face on the center of his chest and I passed in and out of conciseness. We fell asleep. Early in the morning we woke up and the transgressions of the night before melded right into the light of day. I told him he was brave. I was impressed that he could go through with what happened, knowing that I would be not only writing about what had transpired, but sharing it in a public forum. That spoke volumes to me, this man has guts. Eventually we got out of bed and I held his arm while we walked down the street to get coffee. I became oriented to my physical location. When we got back to his place, we returned to his bed and listened to music and talked. We had conversations that weaved in and out of our kisses. It was almost as if our affection was as effortless and comfortable as breathing. He told me he has never been the type to wish for a day completely in bed, but was beginning to reconsider. I made a joke about Yoko Ono and John Lennon. He held me, my back pressed to his chest and my curves nestled into his shape. Then without even thinking about it I exhaled, “I like you”. He said “I like you too”. He said I’d have to be a pretty good actress to fake all that I had displayed. I revealed to him that I am incapable of faking anything. He said we should do this again. I got up from his bed and blurted “my favorite, sex drunk” as I stumbled around the corner to the bathroom. He loved the sentiment and said that if it wasn’t so exposing he would have posted the quote on twitter. In hind sight, I wondered had he forgotten what got us on this date in the first place? Anyway, when I came back, we talked about things we would like to do in the future, like an up coming concert at the Civic Center and T.V. marathons we would like to watch together. I showered at his house and got dressed. As I was putting on my boots I realized, the last time I stayed over night at a “strangers” house, I was drinking in my early twenties. I noticed in that moment something felt different. He noticed the look on my face and I told him what I was thinking. I said the difference was, these days I no longer felt the shame. I felt no remorse for what we had done. It was good. It was healthy. It was natural. He drove me home and I got out of his car and went straight to work. But as the day wore on I began to worry, what if he’s really not that into me? What if I get rejected? What if I have to suck it up one more time? All of my fears of abandonment began pounding on the door. I had to remind myself that I am practicing seeing where this road takes me. My feelings are meant to be felt. I still need to be in reality and ignore the stories I create in my head. I am following the path that this project is revealing to me. I am learning a lot. My procedure and rules are being tested and compromised. I am feeling shaky about not knowing how I will navigate this process with the prospect of a relationship worth pursuing. But as I said, the universe is unfolding as it should, and I can not predict what lies ahead. I do know one thing. I am committed to finishing the project and keeping my eyes open. Date#10 told me at dinner that he too is working on not getting into a committed relationship too soon. Which I think is convenient and works out well. I have no idea how my body is going to be able to hold all of these feelings, let alone process them. I am like a ripe piece of fruit that has been peeled and is letting down all it’s sweet juices, i.e. the contents of my head. I must let go and let gravity do all the work.
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