Lost in communication

I understand more than you know
The words just get stuck in my throat
Blocked by fear
Prevented from ever hitting the air
But they are the things I should say
Because they are the things that hold sway
With you the right words at the right time count
How unfortunate that when it matters my brain confounds

Jerrod Carmichael

It is a high brow party on the roof of some LA building.
Edwin comes up to me and tries to dance with me. He's a terrible dancer.
I steal away and find a metal bench on which I recline.
With my new eye level I have a clear view of a chair meters away across the pool.
Jerrod Carmichael comes to sit in the chair and his eyes immediately find mine.
I don't break eye contact, not even when he gets up and navigates his way around the pool, through the sea of gyrating bodies and gets to me.
I sit up, still maintaining eye contact. He bends over and kisses me. I kiss him back.
Just as suddenly, he breaks away and sits next to me, his hand flying to his head in frustration? Regret? Confusion?
"What am I doing?" he asks himself.
I open my mouth to speak but I am stopped by the feeling of an insect crawling on my neck. I slap my neck to kill it and I wake up to the sound of early birds.