The Dance
The Dance

Inside my mouth I can hear all the voices say, "Do not lean over the ledge" I shouldn't look down and I shouldn't have found That your lips I still taste in my head

He’d been here before, in this exact same spot. She had found him then and had saved him from doing something stupid, perhaps the stupidest thing he had ever done or considered doing. But she wasn’t coming to save him this time. No, not this time. This time, he was alone.

He’d never expected his life to turn out quite the way it had. He always knew he would dance – somehow, someway. Dance was his life, his passion, his reason for being, but still…who would have thought? He only went to the auditions to please his parents. They wanted the world to see their boy and his talent. So he went and they had liked him…liked him enough to place him on the show to show off his skill. Then…he met her.

He wasn’t supposed to fall in love with her…or with anyone. Dancing was his life and he couldn’t spare any passing minutes for anything or anyone that took away from that. But she danced too. She understood the time, the devotion and the passion of the dance. And she was beautiful.

Fate partnered them together on the show and they grew closer and closer, until they almost became one. He couldn’t imagine doing anything without her. Couldn’t imagine going through the day and not hearing her joyous laughter or seeing her beautiful face. At one point he had cared about the results of the show and his placement, but he was now just happy to be able to dance with his love. That was all that really mattered.

Once the show had ended, she accepted his proposal and agreed to live together, forever, with him. They bought a small house and a dance studio where they could teach and share their craft with new generations of people just like them. They were happy, blissful and in love.

Raising my glass to the head of the class As she powers out steps one through ten I think I'll be fine if I'm covered in wine I still hate you and love you again

After a time, fate struck again but in a much worse way this time. An injury in his right leg left him unable to dance. Or so they said. Of course, he danced anyway. He danced through the pain for some time before he injured himself once more. Now , truly unable to dance, he began drinking. He needed something to ease the pain, to ease the want, to ease the need of the dance.

She could still dance though. He watched her teach her classes, often he would sit off in the corner, with a bottle and a glass. He would settle in and drink and grow more envious and more hateful of her talents. He loved her – at times. He just didn’t know how to live without his lifeblood. Often he thought that she had stolen it from him, drained him and made him powerless. He couldn’t go on.

She found him that day, right in this same spot, carefully balancing on the edge of the bridge. She convinced him to come down. She professed her love for him and rained kisses on his face. She told him she was carrying their child.

Weary and worn Little monster is born Tell me lies and I'll justify them I'm desperate today and it's making me pay For that night, for that kiss, for your bed

Over the nine months of her pregnancy, he rediscovered his love for her. He remained sober – for her. It was a struggle. He returned to dance, even if it was only to teach, it brought him some satisfaction. She taught alongside him until the demands of her body became too great.

When the fateful day came at last, he lost his second love.

The birth was complicated and she had passed away shortly after from a heart attack. They handed him the child but he couldn’t bear to look at it. At this…this thing…that had taken her away from him.

Whoever dared to love someone not there I don't need a balloon and a pin The name of the game is outrunning the blame

He'd taken the child home, but every time he dare look at it he saw her face. The little monster…little girl...looked just like her. His drinking habit came back in full force. He just needed to forget how his life had become such a wreckage. How he had lost everything he’d ever lived for in just two short years. In time, the child was taken away from him, but he didn’t care. To him, everything was already gone.

Better stop crying, hello and goodbying Go on through me, slip on through my hands You get your time and the other half's mine It's okay, this love weighs fifty men

There was only one place for him to go. He had lost everything and there was no point in going on anymore. As he stepped up the road to the bridge, he recalled the joy he had felt when he danced. He tried a few light steps and tumbled to the ground, his leg not willing to support the movement. He resumed his path to the middle of the bridge, now a child’s laughter bringing to mind…her. Again. He stopped and reflected on their time together and their love. His heart hurt as he pictured her face and recalled the taste of her mouth on his. Finally he reached the apex of the structure and carefully balanced on the edge. He reached his arms out and vowed not to look down.

Why (why) Can't (can't) You take me in your arms now? Why can't you take me?

Ahh Ahh Amen Ahh Ahh Amen Ahh Ahh Amen Amen

story index

Hosted by

Hosted by