Dance with You

Here, have a Valentine's Day writing for all of you who joy and suffer in the beautiful mess of unrequited Love.

Dance with You

They were walking side by side - 
Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing
that would convince her he had finally fallen in love.

It was winter, of course, because in literature, weather always ought to match the feelings of the protagonist - 
cold
hopeless
don't-run-too-quickly-or-you-know-you'll-fall-hard.

He was talking about his girlfriend, about how
his girlfriend didn't really like to dance with him, and it was a shame.

She - his friend, not his girlfriend, of course - didn't want to intrude, but it seemed
That someone as lovely as him ought to be danced with.

And so, she almost told him.

That she danced with him in her heart
And she danced with him in his soul
She danced with him in her dreams
(but telling him that would be bold)

Everytime a bit of his real heart
Broke through the facade and shone through
She danced with him in his soulache
If only this dance could ever come true ~

And our souls, they are intertwined
By merciless, indestructible vine
That is covered in fragrant thorns
Through which misery is born.

I will dance with you when you're crippled
By the world's weight you cannot bear
Don't let this dance be broken -

He broke her reverie when his phone vibrated. He glanced at it, a smile spreading on his face. "It's her," he said, and she honestly tried to be happy for him.

She let him be, instead walking away from him, tears spilling over her lashes. Before she turned the corner, however, she
stopped
turned
gently found joy in just seeing him, just witnessing him exist
and watched him smile with that - that - that smile, too beautiful for me to describe -

and even though he did not know it, the dance in her heart ended, as she stepped away to let another take her place.

The End

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