I share this moment with you — I looked for a reason why and remembered there doesn’t have to be one anymore, no need to analyse, just be here when I can.

 In some moments, you represent (our friendship represents) a place to escape to/from, not just on the dance floor, but from the ordinary, to the unimaginable.

 I don’t mind letting those thoughts wander off into the stratosphere, exploring Mars, hiding on Enceladus, believing they can/will happen, because I know we are grounded in reality.

 What reality is is up for debate, of course. You manage your thought set with therapy and friends, pinpointing reality at various places in spacetime. I don’t believe I know what reality is.

 So how can we be grounded in reality?

 That is the question that keeps me awake at night.

 To pass through levels of meaning, from the presence of a guiding spirit within us, the Invisible Hand lending a hug, to the level where no meaning exists except through self-deception, finally to no self at all, and to then sit here typing these messages…well…

 That is what our friendship means, having meaning and no meaning at the same time.

 In other words, we are able to reach out to people of all walks of life and give ourselves to them completely, losing identity every time while building newer selves in the process…

   It’s not about us.

   It never has been.

 It’s about what we give others.

 Sometimes, giving ourselves away is more painful than we can bear by ourselves.

 It hurts beyond any physical pain possible.

 So why do we keep giving ourselves away?

 I don’t know. It hurts right now.

 But I remember one look, one handhold we shared that has made us better dance partners for others and know that this is why I’m here, why I’ve always been here, taking pain away from others in a brief two minutes in a dance or mere seconds on a rotating dance class.

 It’s what I’ve always done, from birth onward.

 It hurts me terribly that Karen does not understand my friendship with you. Sure, I act giddy sometimes when I know I’m going to see you and yes, I’ve written sci-fi stories that are odes to you, but you and I know it’s the love of dancing that we share as dance nerds that I’m celebrating.

 When two dance nerds meet, they know what it means to love another unconditionally, whether for five seconds on the dance floor or five years building a dance community, holding it together when only one person shows up for class.

 I admit I get confused sometimes because I give myself away with abandon, not seeing the consequences of what I’m doing to others who don’t understand.

 You are the only person for whom I would give up…wait, let me reword that.

 In our similarities, I find the strength to push away my wife’s emotional manipulation of me.  In our similarities, I have pulled off masks that covered my darkest secrets and worst fears.

 Thus, at times I have convinced myself that I need complete independence to fulfill my goals of supporting the community through dance.

 I have no one lined up to move in with, yet there are questions about my ability to live alone.

 So it puts me back here, in this moment writing you these texts, asking myself what’s next. I know you don’t have the answers.  These texts are simply here for you to read, to know that you have a positive effect off the dance floor, even when you’re in such mental and physical pain you don’t want to do anything but veg out.

 I have had the habit of falling madly in love at the drop of a hat, one secret of a great dancer/entertainer.

 I used to catch myself falling in love with you and got wrapped around the axle keeping my friendship with you on the level.

 Then, I realised that it’s in part because my love for dancing is shared with you that drives me mad, wanting that dance high again.

 Only through other endorphin rush activities like mountain biking have I been able to separate the dancer’s high from just the normal, regular joy of seeing an old friend again.

  It has taken me off the manic/depressive cycle, too, no longer having to rushrushrush to validate myself and then get disappointed by the slightest sleight.

Being a giver so near another giver, I’ve gotten turned around and fed off your energy instead of giving you my own.
I still wonder what/where, if any, there’s a place left in this area for dance therapy.

Meanwhile, the cat snoozes on me. I think she has the right idea. Naptime!