Dancing Just for the Sake of Dancing

The music was loud…far too loud to permit any kind of meaningful conversation to take root and bloom…and so we danced. Almost all of us…in the cocoon of shadows and flashing lights, of sweat and body heat and primal expectations, of energy sparked and stoked by lust, loneliness, alcohol and recreational drugs…dancing the night away because the alternative was too much to bear.

At some point my companions…fellow seekers of things we didn’t really want to give voice to…melted into the throbbing throng and I was dancing alone…dancing with random partners…dancing just for the sake of dancing.

Then, suddenly and amazingly, random partners became one specific partner. We smiled…obliquely, sizing each other up, drawing close without getting too close, looking into each other eyes to see if what we thought we needed was to be found there…and the crowd fell out of our perception. The crowd fell away and we were dancing…alone, together…maybe a prelude to something wonderful…maybe a prelude to something fleeting but thrilling for that magical moment…maybe a prelude to nothing at all.

In the middle of the invisible crowd…in the midst of the booming music…we danced…alone, together…letting furtive, pregnant glances speak where words could not. Fleetingly we touched…sweet electric contact of skin on skin, body on body…and then, inevitably, the crowd surged back into our perception and we were driven, inexorably, apart to the jealous, all-consuming beat of the never-ending music.

The music and the resurgent crowd brought me back to my companions…still dancing, still seeking something we really didn’t want to give voice to…and my attempts to locate my specific partner in the crowd came to nothing. And so we danced…we danced until we were tired of dancing and looking for something we really didn’t want to give voice to…and then we pushed our way back to the cool openness of the night.

We…my companions and I…shared some self-conscious small talk before we drifted off to our personal vehicles. Feeling for my keys, I found a piece of paper…a piece of paper with seven numbers and a name scribbled on it. My specific partner’s hands apparently having been quicker than my besotted eyes.

Maybe it was the prelude to something wonderful…maybe a prelude to nothing at all…maybe it was just a prelude to dancing just for the sake of dancing.