Intoxicatingly beautiful. Every single woman there was breath-taking, and I was no exception. Looking down at the baby-blue dress and seeing the blonde curls fall against my tanned skin... I seemed to emit some sort of glow. No matter what, nobody could take this moment away. Somehow, I am not intimidated by the stunning women filing the dance floor around me. I see the moonlight bringing out their white teeth and big round eyes, and somehow I feel even more beautiful being in such company- I do not feel restrained by my regular fears and hesitancies, but rather only free; only excited; only a thrill running through my body and lighting up the color in my cheeks.
Something about this dance is important. I haven't yet decided what it is, but I understand that something about this dance has been learned all throughout my life- something about these moves have been practiced and formed from little on.
For the first time, I notice something beyond the other women there. Through the tall oak doors pass 50 men- equally well dressed and seemingly equally prepared for this dance. Or maybe even more so. I can see in their eyes that these moments are significant for them as well. Some look hungrily toward the women on the dance floor. Never in my life have I seen so many prepared men- utterly confident and eager. Wait- no, my eyes move from a stunning man in a mustard colored tie to the next man- a bit taller with dark hair and dark eyes, but what his beauty gives to his presence, his nerves take away. He seems slightly reluctant- but why? Is it not a choice to be here? Did not these young men choose their destiny as I have chosen mine? Or did I choose mine at all?
I do not have time to ponder this question: There is a long, deep note from the cello. It seems as though the dance is to begin. I look toward the confident man in the mustard tie and immediately blush! His eyes are on me and with a half smile, he nods and comes toward me on the shiny floor. I feel warmth spread through my whole body as he takes my hand in his and wordlessly tells me how to prepare for the first move. I can hear my heart beat and am wishing that the music starts before this strong and confident man notices that my heart is louder than the bass. And then in begins.
I am amazed. It seems as though I know how to do this dance somehow. It is in my body and I can feel it from my heart and also from the warm man moving me by a gentle pressure on my back. The first few moves are memories now, I am sure: Full and alive with ecstasy. I breathe deeply, taking it all in and falling more and more in love with the dancer. No! The dance, I think. And then he twirls me too far- I was not anticipating this. I lose my footing and also my confidence. How did I get here? Do I really know this dance in my heart? I second guess every move and become less and less comfortable with the mysteriously confident man. And then, all of a sudden, the dance is over.
What now? He reaches down to kiss my hand and is gone. Momentarily I panic- what if no one comes for the next dance? My worry nearly prevents me from glancing around, but my curiosity overcomes me and to my relief I find other pairs unhooking and moving alone- but not all of them. Some continue to dance, others move together away from the floor.
To my rescue comes a man I did not notice before. His eyes are the nicest shade of green I have ever seen and flecked with little specs of gold. He pulls me in with a nervous giggle-like laugh and I feel immediately comfortable. But does he? If not, this does not dissuade him from confidently leading. This dance has an even more jovial melody than the one preceding it. I feel light and move together with him in a playful, bouncy jaunt as the music becomes more and more adventurous. We are not perfect, we both try to anticipate and misjudge, but this leads to more giggling and excitement. I love this dance. But still it ends, and instead of holding onto this sparkley-eyed man's hand, I surrender as he moves toward another.
My empty hand stings- I look around but realize the risk of dancing again and stopping. The dance is so lovely and so free that I cannot help but feel lonely like never before now that the dance is over. A new song starts and I am still waiting in the middle of the room. Alone! I feel embarrassed and sad and hurry to the back of the room where I can wait outside of the center of attention.
It's a bit strange to watch the dance from the outside. Some pairs are almost intoxicating in the ways they move, but others are awkward and forced. My eyes are drawn to a pair taking glorious, wide strides around the room, circling everyone else. I am surprised to find that it-s the tall, dark man, leading a stunning gal in a long white dress. For some reason the dance makes me want to sing out in joy and yell out in something else.
I follow them jealously until my eyes fall on a gentle looking man also watching with a sad smile and without questioning, I move toward him. He is wearing an odd-fitting jacket that is closed in front. As I come closer, I see there is a tie peeking out- a baby blue tie.
I move in and he notices me with a questioning, but pleased glance. I am almost to his hand when he moves just in time to offer it to me and we, very slowly, inch toward the floor. His moves are gentle, but confident, when he holds me just by one hand. But this isn't enough! I want to move closer- so many more moves are accessible... yet still he holds me at a distance, and the music stops.
Surprised, I look down at his hand. He keeps holding mine but loosely enough that I wonder if he's contemplating letting me go. Moments are spent in this state and a new song begins. It is comfortable- I am delighted. Through the song I learn how to manipulate his lead- to draw him into me, and he does not back away. I am enthralled by the dance and find that there are beats of confidence but also floods of hesitation. Another song ends. Will he invite me back for another? Our moves are flawless unless we are close together. In the silence I unclench his warm hand. Will he reach for it? No. Without smiling I move away. Three steps and he is again in front of me. Shocked, I try to decide if I should go or stay. He moves forward and pulls me closer than previously... and then falls.
Perhaps no one else notices, but I am left alone and he will not let me help him up. Finally, I move far away, pulling my hair into a long braid- changing to separate myself from that strange and painful fall. I do not really understand, but it does not discourage me from the mysterious dance that perplexes me more and more as the evening continues.
It's quite strange- I think I see that for the first time. What is the point of all this? These beautiful things exist around me even outside of the ball, but this dance seems to make everything a little more charged. More exciting.
The evening proceeds. How long have we been here? Have I danced with all 50 men? Surely not. I glance around, looking for the man in the mustard tie. He is not there. For the first time, I realize that the people are changing. Some are leaving, others are entering. Men of all ages- I suppose that they have finally taken the road here.
I realize how much choice I have in choosing my partners and allow myself many dances- figuring out what it is that I need to dance the best, with the most joy. There is some great tension in between our hands. I must give some resistance, but feel confidence from him. Otherwise I take too much control and the dance no longer belongs to either of us.
I have all kids of dances and finally sit down to rest. Many women have left, many have arrived. Still I remain without a constant partner. My hands massage my shimmering and delicate legs and I pour over the nights events. Suddenly I feel the closeness of another and look up to find his eyes locked on mine. The partner that wouldn't get up from the fall. No. I do not dance.
I too experience a fall- as Cinderella must have felt... certainly my prince came and swept me off my feet. I did not have to think, but simply felt my body move. And Oh! How it moved! I leaped through the air, I dipped to the ground- was led to new places and felt like a princess... not even myself. I was carried and lifted until he was no longer there to catch me. I feel hard. Not as me though- I feel as Cinderella and could not find myself to pick up on the ground.
Pointless. This dance is pointless. I rush to the fountain and throw myself in. Wash off the shimmer, take down my hair, discard my shoes. Finally I hear a song that I can dance to myself and run to the floor where I have the confidence to dance alone. While I am lost in the music I am aware of nobody, but open my eyes to find that I am noticed by all. Timidly, most shy away. Couples part to watch my dance and let me through. Others gawk in awe, though not admiration... I am not bothered. With freedom, I continue to dance and playfully one main joins confidently while another runs alongside. The first is quickly bored, the second lifts me at my waist as I jump- straight up ballerina style... I am above the whole room! And certainly everyone can see my delight. I laugh as we spin. And finally he throws me into the air and I wait for hands that never come.
Dropped again. But this time I have bare-feet and can easily catch myself. I hardly stumble and start to run. I discover several others that are alone and broken, but together we make the most beautiful and lively group there. We dance together with so much freedom that we spread out in all directions. And I love this dance. What our brokenness could take away is somehow only making its beauty more incredible. And I guess it makes sense. And I guess it gives me hope. And I guess that I don't ever want this dance to end. It seems that I am the MOST myself in This dance. Or that the dance and I somehow seem to mutually depend on each other.
So I no longer feel a sting as the others move in some perfect waltz around the whole room- I appreciate it's beauty, but also appreciate that 3 count was never really my thing. We've got a new dance now, and it echos my heart more than the waltz ever did. And as I move I understand that many will come to add to the dance- whoever needs it like I do, whoever finds himself in the unpredictable moves. Who knows, perhaps there will even someday be a partner that can keep up :)
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lovely.
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