The Lonely Dancer

2 people dance

“May I take this dance m’lady?”

The gentleman got on one knee and gently kissed the back of your hand as he stated his request. You blush and take his hand, both of you entering an elegant dance. Words were not needed for your bodies to move in sync with one another. To be frank, it was the only way your body knew how to speak. You were never good with words and the voice that came out of your mouth was a stark contrast to the graciousness that you upheld as you crafted your art. You feel yourself relax as your body welcomes the music in a warm embrace. For all your life, music has been your only friend, guiding you to listen to it as it taught you to refine your form. Physical teachers had merely laughed at the croaks that came out of your mouth whenever you attempted to ask a question.

What are the motives of this kind gentleman? You wonder. There were many in the past who would dance with you and even though both of you swirled and turned with the music, there was never any real connection. Furthermore, they got frustrated whenever they attempted to talk to you and you were unable to answer. All of them left you, never to be seen again. You were sure that some of them ridiculed you behind your back, talking crap about how your voice was unable to live up to their expectations of such a fine dancer. What a pity.

Cold and brooding, the empty air had been your only consistent dance partner for several years as nobody trusted you enough to think that the partnership could work without verbal communication. As the music carried you away to a beautiful fantasy land, the aching loneliness in your heart would remind you that all of this was merely a dream. Once the music died down, you would snap back into reality, distraught by the sadness that this forced isolation brought you.

You peer curiously into this gentleman’s eyes and see his wonder and awe at your skills. You also feel the passion that he has for this art in the way he held you, softly but firmly. His turns were sharp yet elegant and his dance style complemented yours. For now, you are perfect for him.

For now.

The gnawing ache bombards the back of your head as both of you continue dancing in symphony. You once again begin to ponder on the motives of this gentleman. You know that all would be well until he asks you a question that you have to answer. That’s how it usually goes. You wonder if he would be the first one to see you for the dazzling swan that you are when the inevitable happens. You shake off your insecurities and try your best to immerse yourself in the moment. You pirouette and throw back your body and he catches you on the dot. Perfection.

In the end, if this was not meant to be, at least you still have the loneliness to dance with. A shame.