Will you dance with me?

Odat tagged me with the Jezebel Meme. Hers was hilarious!

The rules for The Jezebel Meme:

It's simple. Tell your favorite dance story and pass the groovy beat to five be-bopping bloggers. I tag....

Mags

Bee

Sarge

Sandee

Miss Mowie

...and now...

My very first slow dance...

Matt had come to visit me at home. He stayed for a few days- days that seemed to pass like minutes. I knew, with every passing hour, that his visit would end way too soon. I wanted to hold on to each minute-- I silently begged the hourglass to slow down so I could be with him just a moment longer. But the day came, the hour came. He was supposed to have left on Sunday morning, right after church, but somehow he stayed until the afternoon. And then the sun set. And still he lingered.

We both knew he had to leave. It was dark outside, and rainy, but I walked him out to his car anyway. The motion light by the house was on, but I couldn't make out his features. I was glad he couldn't see mine, because a hundred silent tears were running down my cheeks. We stood by his car, my face smashed into his shoulder, for I don't know how long. I could hear him breathing, could feel him breathing. I didn't want to stop feeling him breathing.

We didn't say much. He kissed me.

Then Matt took my hand and whispered in my ear, "Will you dance with me?"

So we danced. Under the clouds, in the dark, in the drizzle. We had no music, we had no hardwood floors. We danced to a chorus of raindrops.

It was perfect.