A blast from the past, a long time ago, that seemed so far away when I still believed in love. The kind sung about in songs and displayed in movies and books.

I wonder whether that fortnight that you existed in my life was just a dream, a figment of my imagination. With you, I took risks, I did without thinking, I lost myself and I thought I fell in love.
It was an ordinary night and I was very excited. I had not seen Ling in a long time or much less go to dance in a club. The setting was right. It was Wednesday night and my favorite music. My two good friends had appeared again after a void in my life. I looked forward to it. An excuse to go out and not stay in my room, heavy with emptiness. I marked the night down on my calendar.
I had not been for that club for so long, have not heard that music for so long. We waited for the people to file in, then we danced. Ling and Sophie and I. For once, we were dancing together again. My loneliness fell off me like a coat too large. Perhaps an aura of lunacy enveloped me that night, to lead me to a period pure madness. There was a certain buzz in the air. Boys tried to buy us drinks, others tried to dance with us. We talked to a few, we snubbed the rest. Dance, dance, darling, dance. From one place to another. Shimmering next to each other. I drank a little but I always needed nothing much to get high. Just the beat of the familiar songs that I could hear in my sleep. High on euphoria. The rhythm coursed through my bloodstream that night and exploded into the air in bursts as we moved along with the beat.
From Zouk to Phuture to Velvet. We flitted like those butterflies in a garden of newly bloomed flowers. I was happiest in my element. Badly mixed retro music. I lived in those times and was born in the wrong era. A boy asked to dance with us and Ling said no thank you. But we got tired too easily, a combination of departure from puberty and the club scene. We were going to leave. Up the stairs, we trotted. Then came the tap on my shoulder.
Perhaps it was the familiarity of it all, boys come to clubs to drink and pick up girls. I turned to see the tall boy in interesting glasses. “My friend would like to get to know you,” I think he said. He gestured to the boy next to him. I took a quick look. My head spun and never stopped. Maybe it was the cheeky smile. Maybe it was just something that I could not place my finger on. I glanced back to the taller boy. “What’s your name?”
I shook hands. He introduced his friend. I shook his hand. I turned to go, the full blown of madness having not settled in. My companions changed route, the wheels of fate were turning. I followed them into Members. Leaving the new acquaintances behind, or so I thought.
The bespectacled boy asked me whether we wanted drinks. Yes, we did. The girls laughed and twittered. They bummed cigarettes of another boy. I made conversation with the boys.
We went to Phuture. It was crowded, packed wall to wall, with hot, sweaty bodies replacing the standard sardines. He offered his hand. Hesitantly for my sanity had not abandoned me yet, I took it. Just for seven seconds. With the blood flowing to my cheeks, I let go although something screamed no inside of me. We were in the middle of the pack, the lights moved and spun like an amusement park ride gone wrong, the air felt heavy. Drawn to him or maybe it was the blinking lights, I felt the walls of air closing in on me and I escaped. We ran to Velvet, three of us and the boys did not follow.
I closed my eyes and breathed, thinking that they were gotten rid off. Finally, we agreed to head back home. Outside, we linked hands, my girlfriends and I. Someone called the name I use as a pseudonym in clubs. I did not offer my number but took his. Supper was suggested. Opinions were seeked. The decision was made when the choice of transport appeared.
The open top convertible had little space. I was placed on his lap. I ignored the fact that my seat was not leather but a warm body. I further ignored the physical attraction that my body called out.
On the way back, the top was down. My hair messed up in the wind, I tried to make conversation. He was shy and the exchanges flowed somewhat stiltedly. I tried not to read into anything. The situation screamed of danger. But danger to who and to what?
That night back in that empty room that was mine, full insanity settled into me and my head never stopped spinning.