Dancing in the Dark

7. Dance, Baby, Dance

Let me tell you something, precious.
Never isolate yourself. Never put your needs before your wants and vice versa. Let them be equals.
You will find your wants are needed and your needs are wanted.

Splurge and spoil yourself, never doubt your decisions.
Be impulsive. The best memories start that way. And always take photos. Of yourself, your surroundings, your friends and loved ones.

Sing like no one is listening, Dance like no one is watching and live exactly how you want to see someone live.

My days with you are numbered and everytime I see you, my heart breaks a little more.

I wish I could tell you these things myself, let you listen to my voice. But that cannot be.

Live life to the fullest, my sweet darling. You only have one life. Make the most of it.

January 2018
My date on the weekend was perfect. After dinner on Friday, we walked everywhere, seeing London in the dark, hand in hand.

Max and I discussed many topics, our childhoods, our families, reliving memories that made us laugh.

We pointed out some world known tourist spots and ventured closer and when it came to call it a night, Max drove me home and kissed me goodnight.

I was prepared this time, I kissed him in return. I didn't tell him he stole my first kiss but I decided I would allow it.

We agreed to meet up for an early lunch and when we did, we were discussing movies when I told him I don't tend to watch movies, or television.

That had left Max a bit more intrigued because we found an old movie house and the next thing I knew, we were watching a movie made by someone named Quentin. It was a dark and slightly twisted movie and even though I watched it all, I cringed when there was death and blood, covering my face, burying it into Max's arm.

But reality caught up and the weekend finished. I chatted with Aunty Seline and Uncle Seth for an hour, getting the timing all mixed up, then it was Monday.

What I did Monday was the same as Tuesday and Wednesday.

Dante, Giselle and I got up at four thirty, we practised at five and came home at seven thirty for breakfast.

Then we went back to the school at nine and danced.

I heard the instructor clap with the beat as we did the same four steps over and over.

"One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four." He kept going over and over. We eventually got it, moving in synchronisation, our moves completely flawless.

We ate every sixty minutes, sometimes it was fruit, other times it was bread rolls for the carbs.

I took off my slippers and stretched my toes, my finger going through the new hole in the shoe. That's the third pair this week already.

Stepping over to my bag, I pulled out a fresh set and put my feet in them, doing them up.

The instructor, Bernice, clapped his hands, telling us it was time to continue. I wanted to groan but kept it to myself as we all got up.