Post by cagedtiger on Oct 20, 2016 22:58:50 GMT -5
So I went to a concert last night with friends of mine. As expected, The Wife declined, as the venue is small and intimate, and the featured performers (Beats Antique) fall outside of her very narrow range of musical acts in which she's interested (bluegrass and top 40, mostly)- Eastern-influenced electronic music with live instruments, and a stage show featuring their belly dancing lead artist.
Here's an example of what the show was like. And they played for almost two hours straight, with no breaks, except costume changes for the dancers:
Throbbing bass line. Pounding drums and backing track. Growling saxophones and mournful clarinets. Winding, serpentine guitar and sitar riffs. All winding together to provide a erotic, sumptuous accompaniment to the talented, gorgeous, incredibly costumed belly dancers who wove the stories of the songs with their motions.
Everybody in the audience was dancing. You couldn't help yourself- we were all ensnared in the aural and visual spell being cast before us. Everywhere around me, women in midriff tops and long skirts gyrated and swayed to the beats, and men in jeans and sweat-soaked t-shirts popped, locked, and grooved to the rhythm.
And of course, most everybody around me was couples who were dancing together.
Just in front of where my friends and I were standing, a married couple in their late 30's or early 40's swayed together, the husband standing behind and holding his wife in his arms as they danced together, flirting with a kiss before surrendering to each other and leaning into each other for the kiss.
My first thought seeing that was, "good for them."
My second thought seeing that was, "well f**k."
My heart physically ached as I realized how very, very long it's been since I've experienced anything like that. As I discussed in counseling this week, it's been since before I met my wife.
My friends bailed out at midnight- they had a longer drive to make than I did, and even though they're younger than me, don't have my stamina- and it seemed as soon as they left the energy in the air became even more palpable. In other words, everybody around me seemed to partner up with somebody to dance, to sway, to hold, to flirt, to kiss.
I hadn't felt that lonely in a long time. Especially not when surrounded by so many other people.
She's kissed me twice since the start of the year- all quick, superficial pecks on the lips. We haven't made out at all this calendar year, and of course, there's been no sex. Or flirting. Or anything else even remotely physical. Not that there was much last year, either. Even with a wedding and a honeymoon.
And she never would've gone willingly to a show like this, no matter how many of our friends saw them last year, or how I tried to package it up and sell it as something she'd end up enjoying.
I was relating to one of my friends this morning everything that she'd missed after she left, and mentioned about everybody around me making out with me. She replied that she'd noticed as well, and worried that I was going to have a hard time with it.
"I should've married a belly dancer instead."
"No, you should've just married a dancer."
"At the very least, I should've married somebody who has some passion for life."
Here's an example of what the show was like. And they played for almost two hours straight, with no breaks, except costume changes for the dancers:
Throbbing bass line. Pounding drums and backing track. Growling saxophones and mournful clarinets. Winding, serpentine guitar and sitar riffs. All winding together to provide a erotic, sumptuous accompaniment to the talented, gorgeous, incredibly costumed belly dancers who wove the stories of the songs with their motions.
Everybody in the audience was dancing. You couldn't help yourself- we were all ensnared in the aural and visual spell being cast before us. Everywhere around me, women in midriff tops and long skirts gyrated and swayed to the beats, and men in jeans and sweat-soaked t-shirts popped, locked, and grooved to the rhythm.
And of course, most everybody around me was couples who were dancing together.
Just in front of where my friends and I were standing, a married couple in their late 30's or early 40's swayed together, the husband standing behind and holding his wife in his arms as they danced together, flirting with a kiss before surrendering to each other and leaning into each other for the kiss.
My first thought seeing that was, "good for them."
My second thought seeing that was, "well f**k."
My heart physically ached as I realized how very, very long it's been since I've experienced anything like that. As I discussed in counseling this week, it's been since before I met my wife.
My friends bailed out at midnight- they had a longer drive to make than I did, and even though they're younger than me, don't have my stamina- and it seemed as soon as they left the energy in the air became even more palpable. In other words, everybody around me seemed to partner up with somebody to dance, to sway, to hold, to flirt, to kiss.
I hadn't felt that lonely in a long time. Especially not when surrounded by so many other people.
She's kissed me twice since the start of the year- all quick, superficial pecks on the lips. We haven't made out at all this calendar year, and of course, there's been no sex. Or flirting. Or anything else even remotely physical. Not that there was much last year, either. Even with a wedding and a honeymoon.
And she never would've gone willingly to a show like this, no matter how many of our friends saw them last year, or how I tried to package it up and sell it as something she'd end up enjoying.
I was relating to one of my friends this morning everything that she'd missed after she left, and mentioned about everybody around me making out with me. She replied that she'd noticed as well, and worried that I was going to have a hard time with it.
"I should've married a belly dancer instead."
"No, you should've just married a dancer."
"At the very least, I should've married somebody who has some passion for life."
