The Dance

August 2, 2013 § 1 Comment

Dancing couple #2“Little love, you really crack me up!” He playfully replies.

“Why?” Bewildered I peer up at him towering over me. I truly want to understand why he finds this funny. It’s like he’s waiting for me to connect the dots, only there are no dots, no shining stars for me to navigate out of this enigma. I still don’t know how we get here, whatever or wherever here is. On the surface it’s a beautiful beach with a watercolor sky of blended indigos and turquoise, the sun perpetually setting, bathing us in this golden hour as the undulating waves glisten like sheets of diamonds while they roll in; so warm and inviting, sometimes the tide tickles our toes as we burrow them into the tawny sand. I realize then we both come barefoot. Me in a white tank and faded jeans, rolled up just under my knee. Abby, well, he’s a bit more dressed for the occasion, his jeans rolled just ankle length, but wears a tailored white dress shirt, with 3 inch cuffs, rolled back exposing his muscled forearms.

“Because you still don’t see the forest through the trees.”  His blue eyes shining as he continues to gaze at me, patiently waiting for me to put two and two together. Only his phrases confuse me, so I play it off. That’s how I move around blocks sometimes; throw everything off course a bit and see if intuition will guide me through, while my logic side is stuck on the word puzzle.

“Psst, Abby, hate to break it to you, we’re at the beach. How am I to see forests or trees, there’s nothing here but you and me and this picture-perfect ocean front. It’s so serene here, I could just plop myself here for eternity.” Nodding my head I realize I mean that. There is something so comforting about being here, I feel my body unwind and tap into its natural rhythm.

“Haha, you’re such a goofball and suffer from terminal literalism. But I get it, you don’t see it like I do. One day, you will, however, until then, let’s dance love.”  Reaching out his hand I place mine in his as he pulls me up to my feet. He’s so strong that for a moment I’m suspended in the air, eye to eye with this gentle giant. Slowly, I feel this quiet longing unfurl, I’m so close. I resist the urge to wrap my arms around his neck and swing my legs around his waist, threatening to never let go. Because I wouldn’t want to. Wait. Did he say dance?

”Dance? There’s no music….”

“Nonsense, we’ll make the music” He smiles lighting up his face.

“We’ll make the, what?” Shaking my head, thinking Abby’s clearly lost his mind. But whatever, I’ll just go with it, so far he has been right about things here.

All of a sudden, as if the sky held tweeters and the sand concealed woofers,  the beach was filled with a beautiful melody.

“How?!?!” turning to him realizing I must be the one losing my marbles. Music doesn’t just appear, out of nowhere.

“Hush, save the questions for later love. For now, let’s enjoy this moment”. His hand sweeps a stray hair out of my face then trails down my shoulder, continuing along my side, and finally wrapping around my waist. I feel his touch deeply as I blush. I focus, trying to maintain control as I place my right hand in his and rest the other on his shoulder.

Looking into his crystal blue eyes I see that he is curious about how I’ll respond. He knows this is pushing my analytical side a bit too much, to just acquiesce to what is rather than let my inquisitive nature take over. I crave explanations and reasoning, especially when it comes to the music here on our beach, I mean dreamtime does mean that anything can happen, but this isn’t even something I’d initiate. If it’s my dream, why does it seem he can control it too? If he’s some part of me I’m projecting into this space, I’d love to know just where I met him, to dream him up in such detail. Back to the music, if this is a world of wishes, then what’s next…is the sun going to turn in to a giant mirror ball?

“Ahh, I see you’re getting the hang of this, Anachel.” Barely containing his appreciation that I seem to be catching on. I turn and look behind me and see that the sun is now a giant golden mirror ball reflecting shiny orbs of light all over the beach. What a site!

“Hmmm, I didn’t do anything, I just thought it, Abby.”

“Exactly, you thought it. Thoughts are energy and hold intention. Well, here, in this space, they become simply be being thought and let go”  he begins to twirl me, then grab me tight, pulling me in closer. I’m losing my ability to breath and concentrate, if what I’m thinking suddenly manifests, I’ll be quite embarrassed.

We begin to get into a rhythm and glide across the sand, our bare feet barely touching the ground. Thinking that I look down to see if in fact our feet are still touching the ground.

“Ummm, usually when one dances, one looks up, not at one’s feet.” he laughs his deep timbre laugh as I feel it reflected in his eyes delving into my own. He so loves it when I am seeing this things for the first time, he’s like a kid in the candy shop, except he’s entrhalled with the other kid, me, taking in all the sweet treats; eyes-wide open and full of possibilities.

“Funny, Abby, I just had the thought that we were floating so I was checking to see if that was really happening or if it’s simply how I feel.”

“I like that, Anachel, that you feel like you’re floating while dancing with me.” Feeling his sincerity, I lean in and lay my head on his shoulder looking out at the mirrored sun. Glancing down, I can faintly see black swirling lines criss crossing his back, connecting this two broad shoulders.

“You have tattoos?” I’ve always like tattoos on men, but it’s hard for me to see these as they’re hidden under his shirt. I’m intrigued and want to know more, but don’t want to overstep. He shares as he’s comfortable and I want to respect that.

“That’s right, you’ve never seen my shoulders.” A bit of concern seeps into his voice.

“No worries, I like tattoos on men. They’re kinda my kryptonite” I wink at him, hoping he realizes I’m not here to judge and actually appreciate good ink. It’s part of one’s expression in who they are.

Before I can use my charms to find out what Abby’s tattoos look like, the lyrics to Yellowcard’s “Sing for Me” swirl around in my minds eye, and sure enough, soon the sky changes tunes to match my thoughts.

“Save tomorrow, I can’t follow you there, Just close your eyes and sing for me, I will hear you, Always near you, And I’ll give you the words just sing for me. I just hope you know, the future in your heart, is just about to start…” Abby’s singing to me softly as his voice trails away, the forcefield pulling me back to reality.

My eyes open and blink from the sunlight shining through the window. Sure enough,  I’m not on the beach but curled up in bed, my down comforter twisted around my legs as if I was trying to dance in my sleep. I tap the snooze button of my alarm clock, hearing “Sing for Me” as part of the morning wake-up playlist on Z100.3 radio. Ugh, 6 a.m. comes too early, ever damn morning.  It’s so hard going through the lather-rise-repeat motions of my daily life when I have Abby to meet nightly. I’m still not sure I understand where we go, or even where he comes from, but for now I’ll let those questions rest and see where this goes if I leave enough space for the possibilities to flow in.

  
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