I want someone to take me dancing. Not grinding, not jumping, not waddling, but actual dancing. I want to dress up and wait by my window until I see his car pull into my driveway. I want to rush to meet him at the door and be surprised that he brought me flowers. I want him to take my hand, grab my waist and lead me through the steps. I want awkward closeness and accidental feet-stepping-on. I want overly romantic music that’s so cheesy it makes me laugh. I want to be so focused on getting the steps right that when I finally look up my heart leaps because never had I seen so much love in someone’s eyes; big, mesmerizing eyes that excite me and scare me all at the same time. Worried that I can’t return his gaze, I’ll just blush and look away. Before I can worry more and recede further into my introverted shell, he will dip me and spin me and twirl me all around the room. He’ll sing off tune to the music and I’ll giggle and forget what was bothering me earlier. I’ll comment on his bow-tie and he’ll tell me that I should wear dresses more often. As we dance, I’ll daydream into the future and i’ll see a strip of visions: me and him dancing at our wedding, evidence of cake smeared on our faces from earlier; then him dancing with my little, curly-haired girl, already a better father than mine ever was; and finally our bodies are wrinkled and tired, but he’ll twirl me around the room just as confidently as our first dance. When I come back to reality i’ll notice that the music has stopped playing, but we continue to dance. At that moment I’ll realize the importance of a single waltz and just how the Prince could make Cinderella fall in love with him in only a few short hours. This time, when I look back into his eyes, I won’t be scared because I know that when I look back at him I can return all the love he offers me. And all of this would have happened because I wanted to go dancing and he took me.
WATCH THIS: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IH1Z9DEDqpk