Please Dance With Me

July 11, 2010
By HLFelix GOLD, Teaneck, New Jersey
HLFelix GOLD, Teaneck, New Jersey
19 articles 0 photos 6 comments

Favorite Quote:
"So do all who live to see such times, but that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us." - J.R.R. Tolkien

The fuzzy carpet warms my toes as I caress the fibers, squishing them. The tickling feeling makes me giggle and then I step off the carpet onto the hardwood, polished floor. The cold, glossiness of the wood makes me feel like I could glide and soon I’ll be flying.
He turns the music on, the notes filling the room with its classical hum. He takes my hand. I look up at him and smile, understanding the look in his eye. I place my hand on his shoulder and relax the hand that is in his hold. His warmth permeates my skin, filling me with a mellow glow like a flower greets the sun’s rays, a long lost friend. He puts his other hand on my waist, holding me close and safe, a blanket of protection.
He steps. I step. He leads. I follow. He spins me out. I twirl and laugh, enjoying how the sound mixes with the music’s melody. He pulls me back, safe and sound. I sigh, relieved to be in the arms of a man who loves me.
I know that soon the song will end. I know the dance will end. I know someday that he’ll let me go. He’ll give me space to glide and test my wings on the air, like a chick falls out of the nest, destined to either fall or fly. I know I’ll dance alone. I know someday I’ll turn the song back on and return, wondering who benefits more – him or me. I know one day he’ll give me to someone else, handing over the task to dance, to protect, to love. I know that he’ll always be waiting in the wings, happy to watch the show, but even happier if he’s called onto the stage once again.
But for now, I’m in his arms. For now, I don’t want to leave, even though one day I am sure I will want to go as far away as possible. For now, I am still his and he is still mine.
For now, and if only for now, I am still my father’s little girl.

The author's comments:
What I wrote for the final piece for a summer writing program.

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