Be Still

   "Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honour God with your bodies" (1 Corinthians 6:19-20 NIV).

I dreamt of your head buried in my shoulder, with your arms wrapped around me tightly. Your steady breathing warmed my neck, and sent goose bumps rippling all over my skin. I saw inside my body—it was dark everywhere except for the ember you had kindled, burning steadily. At certain intervals the flame would explode, an orange and white light illuminating the darkness, and a certain sound would escape my lips. Your hand around my waist would grip me tighter and I’d lean in closer. 

I was trying to keep the flame at bay. It’s hard, you know. Part of me wanted it to continue burning bigger and brighter until we were consumed in its light, but I knew I had to wait. I tried to disconnect from you but you wouldn’t let go. I didn’t fight it; I didn’t want to move either.

I told myself that I wasn’t supposed to be here, not yet. I couldn’t tempt myself like this. The flame, even though it burned slowly, and seemed innocuous, was dangerous. I needed it to die down a bit, surrender it to its keeper until it was time to be released. But I didn’t want to let it go. It felt good, warm, and the light of it made me feel a little alive. I saw myself dancing seductively around it, basking in its flame, drawing close, but never too close to get burned. But I had to step away. It wasn’t time yet.

I raised my hands to your chest and pushed you away gently. You raised your head and looked at me with eyes clouded in confusion. I shook my head at you. “Not yet,” I whispered.

“But why?” you inquired, your thumb tracing the bottom of my lip. My body shuddered, and I slapped your hand away, sighing heavily.

You released your hold on me and stepped back.

“How much longer?”

I looked around, as though something in our surroundings would offer an answer. I was hoping I’d receive a clue, a hint, a sign that eased this wait. Our bodies were volcanoes, increasing in heat, experiencing subtle earthquakes that signaled that magma was rising to the surface. Eruption was inevitable. The only difference was, we could control when that happened. And I wanted to relinquish control. We both did.

Unfortunately no sign was given. No sign is ever given. I sighed again, and looked at you dejectedly. You rolled your eyes and ran your fingers through your hair in frustration. I watched you pace back and forth, your expression contemplative. Sighing, I came behind you and wrapped my arms around you. Almost immediately I heard it. The voice came from my body but it surrounded the entire atmosphere.

He doesn’t belong to you.

I released my hold on you and took a step back. You turned around, perplexed. You drew closer to me, and enveloped me in another hug. It didn’t feel the same anymore. I could have told you what I heard but I just stayed in your arms. Obviously I had to let you go.

I just didn’t want to.

A thick mist descended on us almost instantaneously, and before I could register what was happening, my eyes fluttered open.