Waltzing.
It's such an incredible word. Of course it's a dull cliche considering how often it is used in poetry and writing. I won't say I haven't used it, because I have. I think waltzing has much more behind it than just imagery though.
My friend Joseph mentioned to me the other day he could waltz. It struck me for a moment. Here I was, an eighth grade girl talking to a seventh grade boy, and he could waltz while I couldn't. I had no idea guys actually knew how to do stuff like that. (With the exception of the Cullen boys, of course.) So I decided to go onto YouTube and take a quick video tutorial on how to waltz. I didn't know exactly why I wanted to waltz, it's just one of those things you need to learn how to do before you die.
I can't dance. With the exception of the Cha Cha Slide and Cotton Eyed Joe I don't know any movements to any dances whatsoever. I knew this would be hard for me, considering I hadn't been to dance lessons since I was in 4th grade. I spent nearly the whole afternoon on one video, trying to learn how to float, how to move gracefully like those dancers I see on TV. Go back on left, step to the right, toe to heel, step forward, move to the right, toe to heel. I kept tripping over my two small feet. And I felt unusually awkward without a dancing partner there to help me. I clung onto invisible hands, praying if I fell some angel would catch me.
It must have looked amazingly silly. Me, a 14 year-old girl wearing pink fuzzy slippers, in a gray jacket and red t-shirt, trying to learn how to waltz with no dancing partner. And not only that, but I was learning how to do it from YouTube . . . YouTube!
When 4:30 rolled around I grabbed my iPod and ran into my room. I plugged it into my home and took a shaky breath as I scrolled to "Nevi's Waltz", the only waltz my family owns on iTunes. The music started and I held my hands in front of me, trying to find something to hold onto. Back and forth, I twirled and twirled, confused and trying to keep instep with the music.
And I felt something take hold of my hands. I dared not look who, or what, but I knew they wouldn't let me go.
And I waltzed.
My feet were not mine, they were someone else's. I was graceful, balanced, everything a good dancer should be. I don't know who was carrying me or who was in my soul but I never wanted them to leave. I twirled, I stepped, I floated.
Toe to heel, toe to heel . . .
The music eventually came to an end of course. My partner left me. I opened my eyes, daring to peek at who had been dancing with me. But my room was empty.
My feet were mine again and the next Harry Potter song came on. I stood there like a total idiot, wondering if I was completely insane.
All I knew though, was that I waltzed, and I was very proud of myself.
And maybe that person who had been holding my hands was my angel of music.
-msof57
Author's Note: For all of you hopeless dancers like me here is the tutorial where I learned to waltz: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3hD60Do42FY
