The Dance

We've always had a special relationship, he and I. It began when I was very young, too young to remember many details of our first meetings. I remember being timid at first, hesitant as I talked to him, trying to figure out what he was all about and who he really was. But then I got a real taste. A brief encounter, but that was all I needed. He became an addiction, and time spent with him only fed the fuel for more. I was barely a teenager when I first said the words, "I'll never live without you. I'll never let you go."

That love between us only grew as I did. It took form and shape and wove itself into my identity. All I wanted was to know him better, to be more like him, to love him more. And for everyone else to know him the way I did, too. To "get him" as I so simply and sweetly understood him.

I remember the night I was talking to him and had a moment of clarity about the unique nature of our relationship. I envisioned he and I as partners in a dance, my hands in his, my ear on his chest, his feet guiding our steps. We danced fluidly and in synch, he always half a step ahead, showing me what was next and leading me there.

Over the years, our dance has taken a variety of forms. Sometimes I've felt so close that I can hear his heartbeat, and others so far I fear he's let go of my hands...or I'm certain I've dropped his. Yet through each season and stage of this journey called life, through changes and stagnation and twists and turns, through joy and victory and heartbreak and defeat, I've never lost faith in the sweet dance we've shared.