DANCING WITH MYSELF • EDDIE MUNSON

ten | finale

Stepping back into that dance hall was a lot like being jolted awake from a sweet sleep.

For a moment you were stuck, caught somewhere on the threshold between the real world and the dream world with one foot on either side: half awake, half asleep, barely there... if you were even there at all. While you were sleeping, reality had continued playing like a movie you had forgotten to turn off. It hadn't stopped for you, hadn't paused, and now you were struggling to comprehend the plot, fighting to find your place in a world that had left you behind. You stood outside of it, looking in, but you couldn't muster the strength to take that final step, to wake up fully and abandon the dream forever.

Because it was such a lovely dream, wasn't it?

And now it was over—dead and soon to be forgotten, like so many dreams before it. Already, you could feel the memories fading further and further away. Sitting next to Eddie. Hearing his laughter. Seeing his smile. Feeling the warm press of his lips against yours. (You touched your finger to your lips. They felt so cold now.) These images drifted through your mind like a slowed-down piece of film; then they were just... gone. They abandoned you cruelly, slipped through your fingers like tiny grains of sand. You couldn't get them back now even if you tried. They were floating away: back down that long hallway, back to that closed door that seemed so far from reach. You knew there was no going back, not anymore. Even if you laid your head down, even if you forced your eyes closed, you would never be able to return to that same dream. The door was shut, locked, sealed away forever.

So now here you stood on this threshold, unwilling to go but unable to stay. What choice did you have but to get up and face reality?

❖ ❖ ❖

You walked into the hall on unsteady legs, feeling a step out of sync with everyone else. In the background, "Love My Way" by The Psychedelic Furs chimed hypnotically and made the room feel sleepy and surreal, as if the whole world was moving in slow motion and you alone were unaffected. People brushed past your elbow and seemed not to feel you. Eyes met yours and looked straight through you. Could they not see the red streaks in your eyes? The blotchiness of your makeup? Could they not tell that you were one "Are you okay?" away from a total breakdown? Did anyone even care?

Here you were, experiencing the greatest tragedy of your teenage life and—nothing, not even a ripple in the water!

You could feel your heart shattering into a million pieces, feel the shards of it tearing you up inside, but no one else could see your suffering. It was like that old philosophical thought experiment: If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?

If no one else could sense your heartache, was it even real?

You placed your foot on the step below and felt your heel slip out from underneath you:

down,

down,

down!

A gasp escaped you. Your broken heart leaped into your throat. You caught yourself on the railing, looked down, and saw that your shoe had come loose. It was lying on its side, the faux leather strap barely clinging to your ankle. You must have missed a notch when you re-buckled it, after you...

Here ya go, Cinderella.

Eddie's voice made you jump. It came to your mind so clearly, as if he was standing right next to you. You sat down and buckled your shoe, then looked over your shoulder and wondered, Is it too late for me to turn back? Is he still there, waiting for me?

(No, probably not.)

Yeah, probably not... I wouldn't wait for me, either.