The best dancer in the world

                                                   He’s the best dancer in the world.

It’s a crowded ballroom. The doors open. He walks in. His aura spreads to every corner. There is no spot that can hide from this man. Then, as one foot steps on the dance floor, everyone in the room holds their breath. They know they would be a witness to a spectacle such as they never have seen before. It would be magic.

The orchestra starts playing. His body smoothly flows in tune with the music. It’s as if though his mind and the conductor’s mind are one. The conductor seems to align the next note to his next move. The vision enchants everyone in the room. Such grace. Such power. Nothing else can compare. “Tis a vision of beauty” is the thought that exist in the minds of all that behold him.

I am his antithesis.

As he is one with the dance floor, I am one with the wall.

I follow his every gesture with my eyes. My heart longs to possess such grace. Not for the attention. But, for his face as he dances. The look on his face that originates from the peace within. He dances to not show that he can. He dances to bring joy to those who have gathered to see him. All were immediately lifted from the worries that they had brought in with them. Their minds too absorbed by the sight before them.

Then, something miraculous happens. His eyes catch mine. We lock gazes. He stops dancing. He walks off the dance floor and towards me. His eyes never breaks. Excitement? Apprehension? I feel none. My soul is left in disbelief.

And yet, his hand reaches out for mine. I look down to stare at his hand for what seemed like an eternity. I don’t know what came over me, but I dared to raise my eyes to meet his once again. A suspicious feeling creeps over me. Somehow I knew that he was aware of where I was in the room from the moment he walked into the room. That he came tonight because I was there. I don’t know how, but I find the courage to toss away all my inhibitions. I take his hand to lead me to the dance floor.

The music plays.

Dancing reveals the intimacy that two individuals have between one another.

Our lack of intimacy is blatantly, painfully and heartbreaking-ly obvious.

There are moments when I try forcing my untutored moves on him in an effort to show him that I can hold my own. It only reflected how wide our gap in skills were. I think about how the vision of beauty earlier enjoyed by the audience was now marred. I have brought him disgrace. I stumble and step on his toes. This is the first time I notice his sandaled feet. How I must have hurt him.

And yet, he doesn’t lighten his hold on me. This man has a strong grip. My eyes fall on his nail-pierced hands. Funny how I never noticed it when he led me to the dance floor.

My eyes once again rise to meet his. My heart stops at his loving gaze.

I dare ask myself, “Why would this man choose to dance with me?”

The answer was already in eyes before my mind formed the question.

“It’s because I love you and am captivated by all of you.”

Disbelief and cynicism settles on my face. It’s a mask that’s well worn.

“Trust me”, he says.

I try. Then, for a moment. All seems right. The music now plays for both of us. I surrender to his lead. In turn, he supports. The vision of beauty has been returned.

But, only for a moment.

The bitter, envious whispers wafts from the crowd to my ears. I lose focus. I miss a step. My face and the dance floor are now one. My face almost bleeding red with embarrassment, I refuse to stand. How can I? My dignity has been shattered. He doesn’t need me to continue the dance. The music is still playing. He can still dance on his own and everyone else would forget that I was there. I think I can crawl out as their attention reverts to him.

Then a familiar nail-pierced hand grabs mine.

“What does he think he’s doing? He doesn’t need to do me any favors”, my mind screams.

He pulls me up to my feet. He leans in and whispers into my ear like a lover would and says,”Let’s try that one again, shall we?”

I feel like pushing him away and running outside. Away from all the eyes. Away from his gaze. But, in doing that, I would bring him more shame in leaving him alone in front of all this crowd. The thought of hurting him any more overrides my desire to separate myself from him.

He leads again. I follow. Or, I struggle to follow. I lift my eyes to meet him to send an apology for the shame I brought upon him. His forgiving gaze meets mine. 

The crowd is forgotten. It’s him and I that exist on the dance floor. The way how it’s supposed to be. He tutors me in the way of the dance. He leads me into the next step. What grace I lack, he fills in with his. A balance is sought and is slowly being met.

He’s the best partner that I could ever ask for.

He’s the best dancer in the world.

- Apple Fuentes, SFC UAE