Saturday, August 18, 2012

My Ass Is Smitten With Mister Hazel Eyes, Part 3: Die Antwoord and Romance




Aside from and annoying quasi-hip-hop preamble that inexplicably featured the six-letter f-word, Die Antwoord kicked my ass. I was sitting next to Mister Hazel Eyes, his arm protectively around me, feeling the strangest and most interesting aftercare sensation—it was like I was bottoming to the music. It reminded me of when I’d go to raves in the 90s, generally sober except for the occasional acid trip, I was almost always satisfied to get high on dancing, and this night reminded me of the fluffy, sparkly feeling I’d get during the fourth or fifth hour of dancing, when the music was part of my body and all I had to do was give in to it and keep going. It felt like surrender, and it was delicious then and now.

Between sets, I sat in MHE’s lap and made out with him obnoxiously. Why yes, we ARE in our LATE thirties, but it was so much fun to be all over each other like horny teenagers. When I went to get up from his lap, he said

“Did I tell you you could get up?”

My eyes got wide and I laughed my head off, so glad to stay put.

“What’s so funny?” He said it a little poutishly, but his pretty eyes were shining and not threatening in the least.

“I’m just happy. This is me being happy.”

Okay, so, as I said before, Jane’s Addiction was my favorite band as a teenager and they have a very special place in my heart, the lullaby songs especially: Classic Girl and Jane Says. I like the rollicking songs too, but the pretty songs have always made me feel so understood and loved.

He seemed to understand this. When they started to play Jane Says, he stopped being all grabby-sexy and just held me sort of…tenderly. I thought of all the different ways I’d heard this song, all of the different contexts, all of the many versions of myself, and I decided that this is the best version. I’m proud of how far I’ve come. When Perry Farrell sang “Jane says she ain’t never been in love, she don’t know what it is, she only knows if someone wants her.” (Which felt true in my teenage years but hasn’t been true for such a long time. Talk about an assessment.) he pulled me into a kiss that was sweet and emphatic, and I felt myself really give in to it, to him, to the romance of the moment, to whatever I might be with him. I grabbed the back of his neck and just pulled him as close as I could. The decades of want and need since the song came out felt, at least for that moment, fulfilled.

And then I thought: “Uh-oh. This is meaningful. I’m experiencing cathexis during this meaningful thing. I’m letting him in.” Recognizing that was scary, but I think that kind of metacognition (or meta-emotion?) is a good sign. In the past, I’ve formed attachments and not recognized them, reacting in a fight-or-flight way instead. So this is progress. Scary progress, but still.


I love the way that we played with each other during the rest of the concert. He held me in front of him and gave me bites gently down my neck and back. His hands meandered on the borders of inappropriate, but in kind of a sweet way. We sat down and I ran my hands over his thighs, grazing things I really wanted to grab.

After the show I climbed into his lap in the driver’s seat, cradled in his arms. I took out my pigtails so that he could get a good grip on the back of my hair. He gave me a few spanks but he didn’t have good leverage. We kissed and kissed and kissed and he said things like “I love your eyes.” (Afraid of that particular word, I said, I like yours too.”) and (!):

“You are so fucking beautiful.” I felt fucking beautiful, let me tell you.

I wanted him to kiss me all night but he wanted to get me back to Sweetie at a reasonable hour. As he drove me home, I plugged in my iPod (Who’s acting like they own the place now?) and played I Would for You the only lullaby favorite they hadn’t played. Then I played a whole bunch of dreamy covers.  I just can’t say how much I didn’t want that night to be over.

As we were saying goodbye, he got adorably/worryingly wistful: “Tell (Sweetie) she’s a lucky lady.”

I’m pretty lucky too. If I can just surrender to NRE like I surrendered to Die Antwoord, I think I’ll be fine.


1 comment:

  1. Good concert, good makeouts, and good progress on being able to accept things as they are happening without freaking out. Yep, that's it. You're awesome. No turning back on that now; nothing left but to move forward and let the river of awesomeness sweep you away. ;-)

    Stay SINful
    Mr. AP

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