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The Dance

I once believed my angst originated in my natural (albeit frustrating) tendency to plan the board. In chess, you play the board. Yes, you are playing an opponent, but while waiting for your opponent to make their move, you play all the possible moves. The longer it takes the other player to move, the more combinations of moves you imagine. You can “see” the moves and play the board out to an end in an infinite number of options. I dislike this analogy because it is likens relationships to strategic and frequently oppositional. If you want to play with someone, you don’t want it to be war. And let’s face it, chess is war.

I’ve adjusted my attitude and my perspective. What I wish for and for what I wait is a partner, someone with who I can dance. And as I stand here waiting to begin the dance, I wonder, will it be a waltz? A tango? A Pasa Double? What I know is that I don’t lead. So…I stand here running the various dance steps through my head. All the possible combinations and tempos. If only I weren’t the wallflower and that tall, handsome man with the chipped tooth would ask me for a dance. There are several possible problems with this. He might not dance. He might not even come to the dance. And, if that is the case, will I be willing to settle for dancing with a less desirable partner just so I can dance or do I go home and hope for the next dance? Dancing can be done alone, certainly. We’ve all done a shimmy and a slide to a Justin Timberlake song…or an Earth, Wind and Fire song….we even dance a jig with friends at times. But to have a true partner to dance The Dance is the ultimate desire. To dance through a life with a strong hand on the small of your back, to separate only briefly, never more than a finger tip away from one another, is a lovely and fanciful wish. And every Cindarella dreams of going to the ball and meeting her Prince Charming, even if he is the tall goofy guy in the red waiter’s jacket.

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