You Dance with Ghosts
by Tanri Eafreya
We flew across the dance floor, not caring about anything else in the world. It was just you and I gliding through a crowd of blurry faces I think I knew once, but they no longer mattered. If all eyes were upon us, I never noticed. I was with you. That’s all that mattered to me.
I’ll never forget the moment you came to me. I was resigned to being one of those unlucky wallflowers hovering around the brownies and punch all my life. But one day, I looked up and saw you grinning at me. I knew who you were; I had seen you plenty of times, but you had never meant anything to me before.
You never asked me to dance. You just nodded and stepped slowly back onto the dance floor; I followed you. Once I was finally on that unfamiliar surface, I reached out to you and you took my hand. And we danced. The song was fast and uncertain, and I had never danced before. I trusted you to lead me. I couldn’t help but glance at some of the other dancers -- they swayed so near their partners, and I felt like you and I were standing miles apart. I met your eyes and you grinned again. I took a daring step closer to you. You responded by taking my other hand. The scene around me faded -- you and I were all there was.
In an instant, the song ended and we were left standing motionless. You never said a word, but released me and disappeared into the crowd, leaving me feeling abandoned on a dance floor I now realized was populated by countless couples pressing in on me from all sides. Confused and crying, I fled back to the only place I knew, the ring outside the exclusive dance floor. As the next song blared over the loudspeakers, I watched for you with longing eyes. The brownies had lost their taste; the punch no longer satisfied. What I had been before was no longer good enough. The small taste of something more was not enough to satisfy me; my appetite flared. I wept bitterly for my loss and shrank away from everything I had known. You danced with another girl.
The song ended and, suddenly, there you were again. My heart soared as I cautiously followed you back to the dance floor. To my pleasant surprise, you picked up where we left off, taking both my hands instead of just one, and pulling me a little closer. But I didn’t trust you as I had before. I tried to lead this time, but our feet only became entwined. We both nearly lost our balance. You pushed away from me with a scowl and turned your back to me, vanishing once more.
This time I searched for you, but you avoided my eye as you swung with your new partner. A rage boiled up inside me and I pushed through the oblivious dancers back to my old haunt, drinking my fill of the punch and ignoring you when you tried to catch my eye from over your new partner’s shoulder. I laughed and pretended to enjoy my old friends’ company, but the eyes of my heart watched your every move. Watched so closely that when the song ended and you pushed your way through the crowd to find me, I saw you coming and turned to meet you. As you led me back to the dance floor, an alien feeling pulsed within me. You had always just hinted to me before -- this time, you asked me to dance.
You lost no time in putting your arms around me and pulling me close. I finally felt somewhat secure with you. We would never stop dancing now, would we? I let you lead just enough that I didn’t step on your feet, but I still maintained some control. I wasn’t risking myself to you again.
But something was wrong. . . though you held me near with your arms, you held me away with your heart. I searched your eyes, desperately seeking answers, but you avoided my gaze. Before the song even ended, you sighed, shook your head, and stepped away. I stood frozen as you met my eyes just long enough for me to see eighteen years of distrust -- so many dance partners had left you alone that you couldn’t trust one to stay; they tried to lead and take control when it was so difficult for you to even control your own feet. I reached out my hand to you, but you cringed and shrank into the crowd. Afraid for you, I followed your retreating heels until we reached a dark corner of the dance floor. I saw you. You danced alone.
The sounds and music faded away and I jerked around to look from whence we had come. The floor was empty, and populated now only with pale ghosts and faint black-and-white echoes of laughter. The bright lights that had reflected off my wondering eyes when we had danced were now replaced with stubs of fading candle. The only rhythm, only noise was your feet shuffling across the dusty floor. Is this what you saw when you looked at the dance floor? Nothing but visions of what should have been? Of memories you never lived?
I cautiously approached you where you spun and stepped on your own, eyes tightly squinched and teeth gritted, collapsing under a burden you shouldn’t have to bear, held up only by an Invisible Hand that guided your steps when you could not see through the dark. I knew now that I had seen more in your eyes than you had intended for me to see. I gently tapped your shoulder, but you recoiled, staring straight through me; I suddenly doubted you could see me at all.
Let me dance with you again, please. You don’t have to dance alone. I won’t leave. I promise I won’t try to lead again. If you grow weary, I can help hold you up so you can keep dancing. Don’t stop dancing.
Don’t ever stop dancing.