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The Dance

tonight i had an experience that i have to write about. it was just a conversation but it was so much more than just a conversation. there was flirting and joking and that kind of spontaneous smiling that glows with sincerity and unmentionable meaning. we subconsciously challenged each other to the game of sustained eye contact. our eyes each held secrets that we longed to reveal, but instinctively felt the need to protect. so the game was played and our gaze was held until the moment just before the dam would have broken and our secrets would begin to flow. and this game was the background music for our dancing words. noun, verb, subject, and predicate swirling and twirling to the song of her eyes harmonizing with mine. and of course, there was the feeling. you know the feeling. they say it's in your stomach, but i get it most in the center of my chest. some call it butterflies, but butterflies start out as wormy larva and this is something much more pure. i just think of it as an internal romantic tickling, because being tickled is simultaneously agonizing and somehow utterly enjoyable. it signifies the development of something new; a genuine and rare connection that is just beginning. i wanted to sustain that feeling. i wanted the conversation to go on forever. i wanted the song to keep playing and our words to keep dancing. but all daydreams have to end sometime.

you may feel a little betrayed and disappointed that my experience tonight only existed in my head and i wouldn't blame you if you did. you might even be a little angry with me, but i promise that you hold me in less contempt than i'm holding myself right now. i've locked myself in this daydream theater for much too long. my eyes glaze over watching the two-dimensional images flicker on that big screen while i warm the cushioned seat. life constantly calls to me from outside the doors, but i can barely hear it over the melodramatic symphony that plays on the soundtrack. maybe it's fear that keeps me from venturing out of those doors, maybe it's laziness, or maybe it's just the comfort that comes with staying in one place for so long. most likely it's all three. i know that i can't just kick down the doors and sprint into reality. i have to crack them open and ease my way out slowly. my eyes need time to adjust to the glaring sunlight and my legs need to get loose after sitting for so long. if i'm going to survive the transition, this self-directed frustration must be replaced with patience and motivation that only God can give, because i surely haven't found them within myself.

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