Intimacy Dance

It's 6:37am. I was thrusted awake by a dream. I rarely remember my dreams.

"It's in the blood. I met my love before I was born." - Love Like Winter, A Fire Inside.

AFI's Love Like Winter played throughout, a melodic, rock song with an emotional hook. It often reminds me of change, such as themetic from fall to winter. Most attractive about the track is it's rhythm -- a split half-single clapping beat paired with bass. Boom - pause - boom - pause - boom-boom-boom.

No room, no dance floor, no walls. Just an open, clear space. I see myself dancing. I am stepping forward and backward, fully turning, then clapping above my head, and then pressing my elbows inward to complete an inward clap. Wide smile despite the blaring chorus, "love like winter..."

I move in between partners, every person in my life whom I consider close. The dance slightly changes from person to person, yet the form remains the same. As if we are in a joyful trance, we dance, smile, concentrate, clap, and move-on.

I call this ritual the Intimacy Dance. When I regained consciousness, I understood what this meant. Since August after an unexpected and devastating breakup, I struggled with the possibility of facing post-grad life, well, single. I had never faced a major life transition for the past four years on my own. I thought to myself, "This is awful." And alas, I finally have found the Intimacy Dance.

Around the New Year, I made the intellectual connection. Girlfriends always served as surrogates for closeness and stability that was inconsistent in my life. I had to get over it. There were so many people who cared a great deal for me, including my family, which was more reliable and affirming than they ever been. Most importantly, I was learning to love myself in a geniune way. I turned my thinking: I'm not by myself, I'm simply not dating. Then, I realized that I had to do the work to actually be comfortable with my new state of being.

This dream was a symbol of a breakthrough, representing my relationships and the roles they play in my life at any given time. During a time of flux, I am intimate with a healthy number of people, each in particular way, that brings me happiness and peace. No partner needed.

Hm. I like this. And I like myself better this way. No longer dependent on another person to fill a void that I didn't even realize I had. Because eventually, if I come upon a partner, I'll know how happiness through others without her--from which I can find yet more happiness with her.

See ya,
R.