Melancholic Compendium

/1/ Dance For Belongingness

Story # 1

I stood alone at one corner. Observing my fellow guests as they enjoy grooving along the classical music.

Violin.
Piano.
Playful song notes.

Why in the world do they like that creepy genre? It has nothing to do with me, except for the chills and waves of deja vu that always makes me uneasy.

I have no one to talk to, no one to dance with. Why am I again here? I think I've forgotten the purpose.
Or maybe SHE forgot that I'm still here. Standing like a freaking statue, and being unnoticed by other guests.

I may look like one of all the people in here, because my outfit resembles theirs. A yellow, twinkling cocktail dress, black stiletto, a short, curly hair, rosy cheeks, mild and gentle lips, curled lashes and the sunflower miniature on my hair tie that was the highlight piece for every women attendees.

I'm being stucked inside this awkwardness inside me. Like, "Hello. I'm an outerplanetary being and I don't wanna talk with anyone. ANYONE. I said, I don't talk with anyone. Even if I wanted to. Even if I look like just ANYONE of you."

Wedding reception. My best friend's wedding reception. She told me that I should attend the greatest milestone of her life. But as the time flies, why do I think that this isn't a special day?

The dance floor's already full with couples and partners. Everywhere in this hall seem to be so happy. Except me.

I ain't feel like going in this kind of events. Not that I'm an anti social person, but because I do not enjoy being with people I don't know.

As I stood in horror here, the music gets wilder, and the beat makes the people be more active. The melody came gushing all over me, but still, I do not feel any changes on my current mood.

I just stared at everyone, as I feel a body beside me.

"Madame. Would you like some red wine? You seem to be alone." As I turn around, I saw a man. Black suit, white polo, black tie, black pants, black leather shoes, brushed up hair. Not a waiter, but also a guest. Just like me.

He handed me a cup of wine, and joined me as I peer onto the jolly people. I declined his offer, simply because I don't drink those kind of beverages. What if it's something that can make me dizzy and can drive me literally crazy?

"Why don't you join them?" He whispered.

"I don't want to." I replied.

Why is he staying beside me? I don't know him and he doesn't know me either.

I started to walk away from his company, far from that guy.

I've had enough. It felt like I'm a stranger here.

Culture shock, is how can I describe what I'm feeling. I don't belong in here.

I only feel belongingness with my bestfriend, but where is she? Oh right. Together with her husband, dancing and chitchatting with other guests. Isn't that ironic? Talking with other guests. I'm one of them, but she might have forgotten that I do exist. Exist in this room.

Maybe it's time to vanish. No one needs me, nor I need them.

I walked along the walls, as I make sure that no one notice me as I go through the exit.

I can still hear melodies even when I'm already outside.

Left and right, my feet goes. I went farther from that place. I wanted to bring back that homey feeling.

What in the world?!

It's raining! What a misfortune!

I don't want to enter the hall anymore. I feel more comfort with the rain drops. Solemnity. Yes, I feel solemnity in here.

This time, I started to feel the urge to groove along with the mellow music. I'll dance alone.

I started swaying. I moved my feet back and forth, left and right. I turned in circles. I did that along the rain and darkness of the night.

This time, there were no stars or moon to look at. Only the dim atmosphere. Just right for a woman who enjoys to be alone.

The music starts to be way more soft, as I felt a hand holding my right shoulder.

I stopped swaying, and stood again as if I'm a newly carved statue. I looked at him and he looked straight onto my eye.

A man. Black suit, white polo, black tie, black pants, black leather shoes, brushed up hair. The one who approached me.

The music was still playing soulfully. Violins, piano, and trumpets now in unison.

He offered his right hand, as if he's asking for alms.

"Can I have a dance with you, Ms. Loner?" He flashed a goofy smile. The rain still pours on the both of us.

"How did you know that I'm here?" I asked.

"I saw you going out of the hall. As I observed, you were alone, because you have no one to talk with a while ago." He replied.

Is he a detective? A psychologist? Mind reader?

"I was only captivated, madame. Can I?" He protested.

He took my right hand by his left hand. He held it. While his right hand was beneath my hips.

I placed my left hand onto his shoulder.

We grooved along the melody. I felt more belongingness in here. With him.

My feet were dancing automatically. I don't feel like moving it, but it still moves as how I danced a while ago.

Now, Deja Vu doesn't make me uneasy anymore. Dim night, raindrops and this dance. A dance with the detective who knew what to do to make me feel like I'm at my only home.