Stay

After school on Friday, I sped off to see a friend of mine in Greenville, SC. Seven hours later I was at her door, ready for a good nights sleep...after all of the catching up of course!!! This friend of mine was my roomie in college for awhile. We were also road trip buddies from OK to NY every school holiday and summer. After her wedding this summer, I promised a visit...so since they were having another friend in town this weekend, I decided to go visit too.

After lunch and shopping in a North Carolina mountain town, we met up with some other friends for dinner and dancing. Now, I have to add a disclaimer right here....I LOVE to dance. Growing up (ie highschool, early college) I was normally the wallflower at any occassion with music. My confidence lacked, my groove did not seem to match the music, and to top it off...guys did not come in abundance for the asking. Last night, was only the second night in my entire life (the first was at the above mentioned wedding) that I have truly enjoyed dancing. I felt as if I belonged out there in the middle of the crowd. My dancing buddy knew how to lead, so all I had to do was follow, and to top it off I was in the midst of people that I totally trusted.

I watched the other latin dancers move around the crowded dance floor. Old couples, young couples, awkward couples, graceful women, confident men, twirling, releasing, holding close, letting go. The loud music cut out voices, but conversations did not end.

As I danced, I thought about my life and about romance. I thought about the fact that, given circumstances a year ago, I would have married someone who never would have danced with me. I thought about the much different place that I would be in. Had I stayed where I was, I would never have known the joy of coming out of my private living room dance sessions :) and really dancing with someone else. And there, in the midst of twirling and smiling and stepping I felt a twinge of heartache. Because, I realized that this night would end. It would end as all others night had and would. I would go home the next day. Friendships and acquaintances would go back to routine, my heart would go back to manner mode, and I would continue as before. In the midst of the dance, I was warning myself that it would end.

I hate that warning. I hate it even more when it has proven true. I try to ignore it in moments when I am most ready to believe that love could be possible. I try to hold it in moments of fear and vulnerability. Driving home today, it was the same warning that shed light upon the state of my heart. I am afraid that true love will not come again. I am afraid that the dance is only a dance. I am afraid because I want so much to stay upon that dance floor. I do not want the dance to end. I do not want my dancing partner to leave.

I want to dance. For the rest of my life.