LEIMAYBlog // Fit Me Into You by LEIMAY Ensemble Member Derek DiMartini

This fits. This feels right. 

Is it the shape of things that determine what fits, or do we shape things to make them fit? When shaping ones own body there are always limits. The mannequin in the window will always wear it better. Creativity is bound within the walls of your figure. My shapes are often made to not fit everyone. They fit me and only me and even then they sometimes escape my control. And yet I can be fitted to. But only if I let you. No, only if I fit back.

This doesn't fit. I don't know. I feel stuck. There's nothing left to do. We're not fitting. 

Is fitting in movement? Things can be static but they can still be in the act of fitting. A foot in a shoe. A book on a shelf. You can't deny that they fit.  But not because of what they are but because they are together.  Directed towards each other.  A book doesn't fit on the floor it just lies there.

I'm not doing anything, I'm just lying here.

You can fit into me against my will, but you can't fit into me without there being a will. Otherwise you're wrestling with a puddle, and soon your clothes are soggy and your face is in the mud.  Nobody likes a muddy face.  Is fitting a joining of intentions? Or maybe just an intersection of them. Trying to fit into myself feels like a form of schizophrenia. Each part of my body has its own agency and they are working against each other in order to come together. It happens in an instant and then it moves on and it's the fact that it is moving on that makes that connection valid. Otherwise I'm just touching myself disjointedly while people watch.

I need more from you. You need to push into me more or else I don't know where you are.

To fit is to be located. To have coordinates from which you can navigate. The stronger the connection, the clearer the choices that can be made. If I fit into Robert this way, he has no choice but to fit into me as I move towards that way. This and that are understandings of each others dependency.

When having sex, the moment of entrance is a brief revelation for both involved. After all that energy and passion drawing you towards each other, pulling you against each other, you both cross a threshold and there is a sudden sense of stillness that hangs over the two of you. It's in that moment that you realize exactly where you are in relation to the other person and all other indicators of time and space become less significant.

It fits. I am connected to you in a way that extends beyond the both of us, and this is where I am.

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