The white lights blurred as I felt my eyelashes go wet. You are wearing a white dress with a deep back. His hand rested on the small of your back. Your head on his shoulders. He’s wearing a smart black tuxedo.
I thought back to times when you refused to get out of the corner. When the music played, and the crowd danced, and you sat in the corner and tapped your feet. When everybody looked at you standing, aloof, beautiful as ever. When we searched for that light in your eyes, that had been missing for so many months. And you never once looked back into anybody’s. Shying away from making eye contact.
Then one day a boy came and sat next to you in your corner. He didn’t say a thing. Just sat next to you silently for as long as it took you to say something. And then something else. And you talked. Really talked to him. And as you sat and talked, you didn’t even realize when he put his hand gently under you elbow and led you to dance floor.
By the time you realized, you were already standing holding his hand on the dance floor. And then you wondered whether to rush back to the corner. But the hand you were holding seemed strangely comfortable and you felt very much at home. You’ll danced to what will now forever be known as your song.
And today as I see you with your arms around him swaying to the same words, all I can say is, I’m glad you danced.