L’amor che move il sole e l’altre stelle
This is perhaps my most intimate and tender fantasy. It is similar to the dream elaborated in the previous star-gazer entry. I will say that this fantasy is seemingly contradictory to my ideal dance partner, but it is much more than dancing. It is about the intimacy that comes from dancing. It is about love.
I said in my previous post that my the optimal dance partner for me was one with which I could have a platonic relationship with. This is still true. I confess that the main reason for this is because I’m still single and want a friend to dance with. However, consider this: a glance, a dance, who knows what can happen between two people who share these two things? Dancing is wonderfully intimate when done with your teacher with whom you have a good rapport. I can’t even imagine how blissful it must feel to just dance with the man you’re married to. I long for it. I know two married couples that come consistently to the studio to dance together. They seem to get along fine. I can envision my husband and myself having dance lessons together. I will admit that I’d prefer to only social dance with my husband because I would not want the tension of competition to cause any drama. I wish I could describe it more, this longing, this dream of mine, but I can’t.
Finally, I’d like to be a bit more vulnerable with y’all by sharing the inspiration for this post. Do any of y’all remember a post entitled, to paraphrase, “Those Darn Fairy Tales”? It was about my first encounter with romantic love. I fell in love with a classmate of mine because of his Godly character, strikingly different personality in comparison to mine, and intelligence. He never did love me as I did him. He was never interested in anyone because he was highly focused on school. I could tell it was love because of what I was willing to give up. I was willing to give up the fantasy that I just shared with y’all. As long as he let me continue dancing, it didn’t matter that he would rather not dance with me, as long as we were together. For someone like me, that is huge. I could even imagine having children with him, and let me tell you, the prospect of being a mother and having to clean up my children’s messes frightens me often. Yet, four days ago, I found that I had fallen out of love. It was bittersweet because loving someone in such a way augmented my life in some inexplicable way despite the pain, but there is a sort of sweetness to falling out of love. Now, I feel free. I am free to seek love once again without pining over a man who never loved me.