Dancing

“It’s too good to be true,” he said.

“Yes,” said another. “Or maybe it’s like ‘The good things never last.’”

“Maybe,” I said, scribbling the two quotations on the dry-erase board before opening up the conversation to the class.

It was February 12th. In two days, it would be Valentine’s Day. Most of my more open ESL classes—like writing and conversation—carried themes like love, or dating, or romance with them. There was not any solid consensus in the class regarding the truth of the statements, but I left thinking… and dancing.

I’ve been dancing incessantly for the past six months. Dancing while taking the subway. Dancing while having a shower. Dancing while walking…. And the dances come in a full range of styles. One block, I might be doing a slow dance, only to turn the corner and break into something fabulous and rockin’.

And these dances… these dances are perfect. They are effortless and graceful. During them, my heart rate is slightly faster than usual. An almost non-existent layer of perspiration helps keep my cool. My body floats just inches off the ground… and nothing that anyone does can take my smile away from me.

Six solid months of this, and here I am listening to people debate the saying “The good things never last.”

Part of me wants to tell them the answer. Part of me wants to tell them my secret story of me dancing with joy every day. But part of me also wants to keep it secret and keep the music and dancing to myself….

After all, almost everyone knows I’m a little bit crazy. They don’t need to know all my secrets too, do they?

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