The Last Dance

I watch them dance. The public celebration of their eternal pledge to each other. It’s an awkward affair for both of them, but it’s tradition. It doesn’t take long for other pairs to join them and embrace the awkwardness of it all. I don’t. I can’t. He can’t dance with me, not in the way that I needed, the way that I begged him to be. It was never meant to be.

I write words of hope that I don’t mean into the guest book. I never believed in love or romance, or any of that stuff. I couldn’t believe in something that I’d never seen. Until he came into my life. He was the light at the end of that never-ending, pitch-black tunnel of despair. But that wasn’t something he was prepared to be. Not for me.

Their dance seems to last forever. Always entwined with each other in an embrace that only two people who truly love each other can ever muster. I stare at them and dream of a life that I had started to look forward to. Not anymore. Never again.

I hide in the bathroom. Away from crowds, I could be alone with my thoughts while I still have the chance to be. I never dreamed that I would have ended up like this. I still don’t know how I’m going to tell anybody. I wonder if I have to tell anyone, if there’s a way to go back to the way things used to be. I know there is. It’d make him happy. Even after everything, I do still want that for him.

I watch him dance. It’s nearly over now. When he’s finished dancing with her I’ll tell him; let him know what I’m going to do. For a moment I wonder if I should ask first; it is his too. But, I know the answer. He made himself perfectly clear last time. He wouldn’t want to keep it.

I just wish I could tell him how much I love him one more time. Hold him one more time. It should have been me dancing with him tonight.

It should have been us dancing with him tonight.