Disclaimer: My dreams tend to be embedded with graphic imagery (mostly sexual). Read at your own risk. Or pleasure. Whatever.
There was a Kanye West concert happening in town. D and I spent a couple hundred on the tickets to see the show, but the best we could afford were the nosebleed seats. I arrived at the concert venue first. The doors opened and a stampede of crazed fans pushed through the entrance. I glued myself to the wall so I wouldn’t be trampled over. Where was D?
A mysterious hand gently grabbed around my waist. I smiled. I looked over slowly with anticipation. It wasn’t him.
“Hey,” he softly called as he tightened his grip around me. I felt a million sensations rise from where he touched me to the ends of my fingertips. I haven’t felt him since last winter.
What are you doing here? Why are you so close to me?
“You don’t want to see me?” He wore his trademark jacket, fabric over the body and leather around the arms.
I shouldn’t want to see you.
From my waist, he slid his hand down my arm to meet my hand. His fingers found the gaps between mine and soon, our hands were interlocked.
“I have tickets at the VIP section. I’ll take you there.”
I should have said, no thank you, I’m waiting on my boyfriend. I should have pulled away and walked in the other direction. I should have shouted, I love someone else.
But I walked with him.
We found seats very near the stage, so close I could almost touch Kanye’s hands. He sat on the outside, locking me in. The concert must have started, for the lights were dimmed and the spotlight was on the stage. But for some reason, we were still sitting. He was still holding my hand. His scent still lingered, calling memories of a winter thought to have been long forgotten.
He leaned closer and I leaned in, listening to what he had to say. He didn’t say anything. Instead, he nibbled on my ear and breathed gently down my neck. I couldn’t help but let out a sigh. No, no, no.
I shot up and shook off his hand. My boyfriend is here. I’m going to find him.
“Please stay,” he whispered from the dark.
D and I decided to ditch the concert to find something new to do, something we haven’t done. We walked out mid-performance. As we were leaving, I peeped over at the VIP section. He was no longer there. I cringed in confusion, hoping D wouldn’t notice. I looked again, just to make sure. Was he ever here?