Self analysis, an attempt

It has been bugging me ever since yesterday evening, Saturday 20th that is. Nothing in peculiar happened but it is how I felt that surprised me.

Princess and I follow Salsa dancing lessons and we attend them on Saturday evening. Yesterday there was no lesson scheduled but we just wanted to dance.

The Salsa bar is just around the corner where I live and when we arrived there was not that much of a crowd and we found a place near the dance floor.

The played a mix of disco and salsa and other stuff and I ordered two glasses of white wine. The bartender brought us our drinks and Princess looked at him and he caught her eye and he stumbled and the glasses fell and wine was spilled over the table. He mumbled some kind of excuse and we switched tables and he came back and cleaned everything up and after some time we finally got our drinks.
He said sorry once again and explained that he stumbled watching Princess and I found it hilarious, as our waiter was obvious very gay, even with a matching voice.

We danced and of course we are absolute beginners and I have trouble leading but after the second dance it went okay I think and I lead the love of my life and she responded well and I felt great dancing with Princess.

When we sat down I did not feel that great and uneasiness started creeping in my mind and body as I experienced the whole environment as very menacing.

Ever since I, a thirteen-year-old boy at that time, looked down, three floors high, on the street watching how my father was shoved in an ambulance, never to see him again, I suffer from separation anxiety.
Years later I experienced the pain, the hurt, the suffering, the unbelief when I discovered how my partner had opened her legs for another guy. It happened, as it seems now, every time, with every new relationship. And I know how cheesy this sounds but it was almost always one of my best friends.
As a result today I have no a male best friend, only vague contacts.
Stupid self-defense I guess and a matter of trust.
Hell, it took me years to trust a woman again and she too fucked it up to making me believe it is impossible for a damsel to be faithful to a man.

Then I met Princess and she is different and I trust her completely, I trust her with my life. Princess is an exceptional person.

I want to emphasize that I do not own Princess, she is a human being like me and free to go and to do as she pleases. I have no rights on her whatsoever and I respect her as a woman, as a person. No issues there.

One of the people in the Cohi Bar was disguised: a large and exaggerated Afro hairdo, red shirt with golden speckles and white elephant trousers. Huge black shades to go with.

Princess and I danced some more and afterwards we sat down enjoying our drinks and then the unspeakable happened.
The disco guy came to our table and asked Princess if she wanted to dance with him then asking, politely, my permission.

A black veil of panic engulfed me; I felt like I was sitting on quicksand, my throat suddenly very dry and my stomach doing silly things. Sheer panic.

Of course I said yes, could I have reacted differently?
Could I have said…
” I know what you’re thinking. “Did he fire six shots or only five?” Well, to tell you the truth, in all this excitement I kind of lost track myself. But being as this is a .44 Magnum, the most powerful handgun in the world, and would blow your head clean off, you’ve got to ask yourself one question: Do I feel lucky? Well, do ya, punk?”


I watched them dance and Princess did very well and I, well, I felt the urge to run to the bathroom and vomit. Of course I didn’t.

This Sunday, noon, I fried some mushrooms, added truffle oil and made some pasta and enjoyed my meal and washed it away with excellent Shiraz.
And I thought it over.
Was I jealous yesterday? Fuck no.
The only thing I know was that I felt extremely menaced and far from any comfort zone I feel okay in.

Still have to figure out why.

Of course I did not tell all this to Princess, I just wanted her to have a great time.
It is just an issue I need to get over.

Fried mushrooms

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