- 3 thoughts
- Log in to add a thought
I danced in the rain tonight, without you. It’s always been without you, because before death the division was the sea. I danced in the rain tonight. Without you. But I told you once, how I danced barefoot in the snow under the 3am moon. And since then, only you have understood the choreography. I danced in the rain tonight. Without you. It’s been a great many things without you. But tonight the rain smelled sweet and cold. And I felt you there, as the sky wept. I felt you there, because my soul wept too, as I tasted laughter on my tongue. I felt you there, spinning to the beat of raindrops and teardrops and my heart. The beat our hearts shared, in their delight for insignificant moments- like dancing in the rain. Your heart beat stoped; you are bones now. I danced in the rain tonight, without you. But you were there, phantom wise, dancing with me too.
I miss it. Dance. I miss it like hell. 14 years and then I classes two years early to go to school and I can probably count on my hands the number of times I've danced in those two years. I don't know why I stopped. I guess I got lazy? I'm so glad for my best friend who danced with me for most of those very few times. She reminded me how much I needed dance. I'm trying to get back into it now, but I guess I'm a little scared. Scared of how much mobility I've lost, how much balance, how much flexibility, etc. But now the absolute passionate need for it is starting to overpower any fear. I've started absentmindedly tapping every time I'm standing still. I've always done that, but now I'm doing it about ten times more. That's the best thing about tap. It may be probably the hardest type of dance to learn, but it's damn hard to lose. Every time I hear a good song it's all I can do not to burst out dancing. Once I make the floor space and carve out some alone time, I'll probably dance til my legs give out and I have a few layers of bruising. That's the great thing about dance. It's such a great release and you just get so into yourself you don't even notice yourself getting tired and you don't care about the bruises. When I'm dancing I'm not afraid of anything. Sometimes when I first start out, I'm thinking about what the people watching think and what the movements look like, but once I lose myself that's when the dancing really starts. When you stop thinking about the movements and just let the music take you, it's the best feeling in the world. You feel like you can go on forever just riding that high. And being onstage! Oh, if everyone could feel that feeling just once. The anticipation, the nerves, the fear, and then you hit the curtain and it all turns into a passion that just oozes out of you and you do whatever you can to release it, to share it. Then you go back to the wings and it's all a blur and you feel better than you ever have. If everyone had something that made them feel like dancing makes a dancer feel, we'd be a much happier species. We'd understand each other.
I know exactly what you're talking about! I quit dance two years "early" to go to school, also, and now I really miss it. I also quit because my teachers were making me hate it, and I couldn't take it anymore. But now I can't wait to start dancing again. I plan to start taking classes again in the fall, but I completely understand your fears. I can feel how much flexibility, stamina, and balance I've lost, not to mention muscle tone. But it will be worth the pain to dance again.
Do it. Just do it already. He's out there on the dance floor. His date is just a friend. Fucking do it. Go for it.
Wait. Don't walk over. It's oh so obvious. Try dancing over. Slower. Slow-er. S.l.o.w.e.r.
Fuck! He turned away. Did he see me coming? Maybe he doesn't want to dance with me.
There's only one way to find out.
With one last deep breath of courage, I stepped in front of him, grabbed him by the tie and started to dance.
And he smiled.
You're braver than I am.... way to be!