Restructure- on your own terms

16^th December 2006

Ok, it must be the time of the year. M-time. B, the best friend has said I am always seasonal when it comes to bestowing my affection for the men in my life. I rang her at 3.30am my time this morning. I had been drinking for at least more than a good twelve hours at the stage- wine, spirits, shots and cocktails. I spent all night talking about art and writing, singing and dancing. But I am still in one piece. No hangovers or vomiting fits albeit experiencing a slight tipsiness pre-sleep. I have since awakened and it is now noon and I am writing.

And I also happen to realize for once, I am writing in the first person narration.

Must be a nice change for my small handful of readers and a refreshing start for my good self.

****

So last night, I ended up at a Latino club.

I danced with two different Latino men.

I have not danced for years.

I think it has something to do with my soul.

I stopped dancing since I have been with DL. For some reason, I lack the confidence to gyrate and shake and jiggle and let my hair down like the way I did some seven or eight years ago.

I get too self-conscious these days and I am relegated to a drink in hand for the most parts.

While in my younger days, we hardly drink. We went to the clubs for the dance and the music.

****

So last night at the club, while the Latino DJ spun away and worked the crowd on the floor, I texted M.

I told him it reminded me of our time in Paris.

****

It was the day we formally met and got hooked up. I was terrible at dancing and Pato tried to lead me in the salsa. I was too embarrassed and was laughing away. M stood at one side watching encouragingly. I told Pato I have had enough and went back to M. We found a place to sit down and watch the Latino lovers work the dance floor, heating the place up with their sensuous movements and the way their bodies and eyes connect. There was a lot of energy and amidst my tipsiness, I remembered my nights in Havana and again, it was a night for lovers and I felt the romance in the air once more.

That night, we kissed passionately for god knows how long. Cas said we were kissing the entire night and I was sitting on M’s lap the whole time.

“You are beautiful.”

“Oh, thank you.”

“Why thank me? Thank your parents.”

(As we re-visit our romance a year on later, we made love and I heard those words again.

“You are beautiful.”

“Oh, thank you.” I replied coyly once more.

“Why thank me? Thank your parents.” This time we said it together. We looked into each other’s eyes as we recalled that magical night in Paris.)

Pato and Cas had to tug at my arm to curtail our snogging session to signal for time to sojourn to the apartment in Le Marais to continue whatever activities we would like to engage privately or jointly.

****

I miss you and I cannot tell you how much I do.

He texted back immediately.

Hey, enjoy the place. Don’t get too nostalgic n hope to c u soon. Besos.

Ah well, not feeling that nostalgic. Nowhere beats that place but I guess I just want to tell you that I always love you in spite of myself.

I meant in spite of my misgivings. I meant that for every man that I felt.

(I once said to Dope perhaps if I could split myself many ways, then I would want each of me to give all the affection and passion I have for each of the man I truly adore. Dope has always understand that I was a lover which he must have looked to for inspiration but again, I could never invigorate his restrained soul enough.)

I haven’t said those magic three words since he departed.

There was no reply afterwards.

I expected it.

What else do I expect him to say?

That he love me too?

****

So I was dancing on the dance floor last night till this morning.

First, I was invited to dance with a Latino with an Australian accent. He wore a white suit jacket and jeans.

I told him I couldn’t dance and he said he would lead me.

He asked if I ever dance because he said I was lying. He could tell that I dance.

Ballet and Chinese dance I told him and before I could finish my sentence, I was being twirled and whirled again.

I asked where his origins were from. He said Chile. That made me felt nostalgic.

At the end of the dance, he said I did well and had just done the meringue with him.

We danced another dance that night.

****

Latino Two asked me for a dance.

Again, I said I couldn’t.

In his Latino accent (I think he’s Columbian), he said he would teach me.

“ One, two, three, step left. One, two, three, step right…”

So I followed and he twirled me round and round and that night he did something to awake my soul…

# posted by DilettanteP @ 7:37 pm