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The Dance (standard:romance, 607 words)
Author: DonnaRAdded: Oct 12 2000Views/Reads: 2175/1Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A night of disappoinment turns strangely fulfilling
 



The Dance 

The room is crowded.  I hear the laughter and many conversations going
on around me.  Occasionally, I also chuckle at a joke or story I 
overhear.  I'm alone though, amongst many.  I wish simply for time to 
pass so that I can leave, return to my solitude where I am my only 
companion.  I stand apart from this glittering group, never quite 
dressed the way of the others.  My face and body different from most.  
It's not that I mind, really, it is just that I wish to be appreciated 
for me.  I am not the clothes I wear, nor am I the style of my hair.  
Those things are the package I come in. Unfortunately very few are 
willing to look beneath the outer wrappings and get to know me.  These 
things bothered me for many years, and yes, the fact that I mention 
them now, shows that they still have the power to hurt me. 

No one really notices that I am here, so I think I shall just make my
way to the exit and leave.  Go back to my world of dreams and fantasy.  
My safe world.  As I make my way through the crowd I have a strange 
feeling.  I cannot describe it.  It is a feeling of being watched. 
Singled out from the crowd for some reason. I feel no sense of threat 
from this feeling, but rather a sense of wonder.  My gaze travels the 
room.  Seeking the source of the feeling. Standing apart from the 
crowd, much as I was myself, I see another. Our eyes meet and the 
strange sensation increases.  I find myself drawn to him.  I cross the 
floor, my eyes never leaving his.  He stares, almost unblinking, as I 
approach.  No expression crosses his face.  I can read nothing there, 
not disgust, not desire, not pleasure nor anger, nothing.  I, who am so 
good with reading others, cannot read him.  My feet move of their own 
accord.  I am reluctant to advance further, yet cannot seem to stop 
myself. 

I now stand before him.  He is taller than me, slightly, his eyes
intense.  I feel the smile that I tried to conjure die before it 
appears.  For what seems like hours, but in reality I am sure was only 
seconds, we look into each others eyes.  His hand reaches out and I am 
startled by it, for he has remained so still that I was not sure he 
could move.  I look at the hand, palm up, patiently waiting.  The 
fingers are long and strong, the skin tanned.  A hand that knows work 
and is not afraid of it.  I place my hand in his and watch as his 
fingers close around mine. He steps forward and now only inches 
separate our bodies.  I hear the music in the background, slow and 
sweet.  Music that tells the story of first times.  He takes me into 
his arms and we sway to this wonderful tune.  In his arms I lose the 
feeling of separateness, aloneness, differentness.  For the minutes of 
this song and this dance, I feel complete. 

The music slowly fades away, the song ends, the dance ends.  I am
released.  He backs away from me and I see the tears in his eyes.  I 
watch as he turns away and leaves me.  Another awaits him, one that 
means the world to him.  I feel I should be sad, but I am not, for he 
shares himself with me.  True, I will never have all the dances, but 
the one that he gives me is so sweet.  I am thankful for the dance. 


   


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