01 - Trapped universe

I scan the side of the dance floor as I pass the crowd. For a short moment, my eyes meet yours. I turn my head away, only to turn my head back to you. Those eyes..

I ask you to dance and not long after we hold each other. There is something I cannot place. Not the first nor the last to hold a woman so close to me as I am holding you. And still it is the first time in a long time that I feel what I feel at this moment. I close my eyes.

The longer I dance with you, the more I feel the borders between you and me fade. My breathe becomes yours, my cheek merges with yours. Your back and hips become my hands. Our steps blend together and as our surroundings fade in the background, all I feel is a happening. Music is happening, moving is happening, breathing is happening. We are happening.

I sometimes disconnect our intimate embrace, trying to see if what is happening within me, within us, is happening within you. You open your eyes and gaze right through my eyes, right into my soul. It takes not long for me to realize, that I am falling in love. In love with our happening.

Our embrace reconnects. The tighter I hold you, the lighter I feel. I can't help but to feel a slight discomfort when I feel something growing between our legs. Sex is not what I am thinking about. But I can't help to push my erection harder against you. I want to go inside you. Not a part of me. Not my erection. It is me. This shell of mine wants to merge with yours. I want us to move inside each other.

I apologize for my erection. I normally don't get this. You don't mind. You say you like it. You say you feel safe in my arms.

Our dance comes to and end and I ask you to go outside and talk a bit. You nod and walk with me. We talk. Small talk. And suddenly I feel I have to defend myself, while I am confused myself. What is happening?

I get to know you a bit better, but the more I listen to you, the less I focus about what you're saying and the more I start looking at your lips. Not only because I wonder if they are as soft as they look like, but also because I feel emotionally naked when I look at your eyes. I'm afraid of getting caught by your enchanting look and at the same time I wouldn't want anything more than to be passionately naked in front of you. This is me. Release me from my thoughts, my body, my feelings. I don't want to be on top of you. I don't want to lie next to you. I don't want to be inside you. I am me. But I want to be you. I want you to be me. I want us to be each other.

I return into my body while our conversations continue. You tell me more about who you are, but most of it feels like a hollow shell of who you are. What are your dreams? What would you like from this life? With what do you want to surround yourself? What makes you angry? What makes you sad? What is your favorite food? Which position is most comfortable for you when you want to sleep?

Days pass and it gets hard to connect with you the way I would like. Mostly, because I start to question everything in my life. And something is off. Your heart is closed. Your heart is broken.

I question the dances, I question my own feelings, my imagination. I question my body. I feel trapped in my body. I want to be free. Trapped, I want to be free from this machine that I see when I look in the mirror. I am yelling. Silently, in my body.

It's almost as if our machines, our vibration, made me go outside of my body, only to fall back and realize I am trapped.
Is my body laughing? Is my body shaking? Is my body doubting?

And here I am, in a hotel with a glass of perfectly tasting red wine. Writing, typing. My body is feeling. My body is looking. But I am numb. I am blind. I am trapped. I don't want to be here. I don't want to be with you. You are trapped, just like me.

I want to be free. I want to be in the sky.

Energy. Shapeless. Everywhere.