This weekend . . .

They held me like they meant it.
I received a cabeceo from far across a dance floor that nearly knocked my socks off.
I waited,
I surrendered,
and I found my tango.

I stopped trying to dance, and started looking for the sweet spot. I'll be honest, I don't know how to do it in open embrace. I don't know how to find it. In close embrace, it's all I need. It's everything I need.

The sweet spot is, for me, that place on a man's chest that, when you connect, you get the most information. Not just about his lead but about his music - what he's hearing in the music, how it's affecting his breathing, his heart beat, the intention radiating through his torso. Once I've found it, even the tiniest changes are completely clear.

Now, instead of evaluating and analyzing, all I do is listen to my partner's breathing, and feel for the "sweet spot". When those elements come together, I have no idea what he's leading or what I'm following or how we look. It all sounds so cliched and melodramatic, but I am wrapped in my leader's breathing and heartbeat - and the sound of his music.