Connecting

And I am still not getting what I want. I want to touch the back of your right arm. I wish you could remind me who I was. Because every day, I'm a little further off.

And you may be acquainted with the night, But I have seen the darkness in the day. And you must know it is a terrifying sight, Because you and I are living the same way.

Amanda Palmer, "Astronaut"

I have had someone in my head since October. Sometimes the back, sometimes the subconscious, sometimes very much in the forefront. It was borne of an impulsive night online, during (and after) which I had to repeatedly assure them that they were not offending me, objectifying me, etc. That I was having a damn good time. While they do have a way with words that sends waves through my lower abdomen, and makes me idly caress whatever's near (one time it was a wicker hamper, that's how focused I was on their words), I realized I mostly want to fuck them because I want that connection. I enjoy our non-sexual chats just as much. There are a thousand different ways to connect, and I want all of my favorite ways to connect. With this person, specifically. Here's what I don't have the courage to tell them.

I want the connection that happens during the first physical encounter, the first hug, when I find out how you smell, how you smile, how you look when you're feeking shy.

I want the connections that pop up like dollar bills at a topless club when we're finally face to face, talking. Lounging together, my head nestled in the crook of your arm, your head on my stomach, stopping you mid-sentence with a kiss, resuming the conversation moments or minutes or hours later, discovering how and when we agree. I want the fire this knowledge ignites in me, a million tiny fires keeping the darkness of knowing how alone I am away.

I want the connection of watching stupid amusement pour out of the TV, paying less attention to the actual content than to what we're saying to each other.

I want the numerous tiny connecting sparks that build when we embrace each other and start kissing with an obvious, unspoken goal between us. When we bare ourselves, accepting any judgments and fearing none. When you kiss your way down to what you've been wanting for half a year, and prove your statements that you fucking love it and won't stop until I beg you to. When I prove my own statements in kind. When we finally can't stand it anymore, and give in, ending the extended foreplay and get to the things we've admitted we both think about when we're alone and satisfying ourselves. When the sparks solidify and we have our orgasms, when the connection is broken, when it explodes, and leaves us with a different, more longlived connection.

I want all of that and more. You tell me it will happen, that you know what you want and will get it. I choose to trust you, and wait.