Wishing and Wanting
I want to go dancing.
I'm tired, and I've been working too much, and my knee still hurts, and none of that matters. I crave it, I feel it in my feet and my arms and my heart and my toes - every time I move, more than anything it wants to turn into a dance. I move my hand, maybe from keyboard to mouse or to reach for something on the table next to me, and somehow it becomes a reach, a beckon, a pose. My toes are pointing, my shoulders are fighting to slide to one side, then roll back, and my whole body is aching with sitting still - if I stand up, I'll be lost.
Right now, it's Broadway on the radio. That doesn't matter. I could dance to orchestral music right now. I could dance to background conversation.
It's Saturday morning. I have errands to run, and hats to buy to protect my delicate nose from the Hawaiian sunshine. I have orders from my doctor to stay off my feet as much as possible. Somehow I think flinging myself around the room, stomping and leaping and spinning, doesn't quite match those instructions.
I don't want to turn off the radio, though. That would just make it worse. Right now, at least, I can dance in my mind even if I can't dance with my body. Soon, though, I'm going to give up fighting and just throw myself into the music. It'll hurt, but it's going to be so incredibly worth it....
I'm tired, and I've been working too much, and my knee still hurts, and none of that matters. I crave it, I feel it in my feet and my arms and my heart and my toes - every time I move, more than anything it wants to turn into a dance. I move my hand, maybe from keyboard to mouse or to reach for something on the table next to me, and somehow it becomes a reach, a beckon, a pose. My toes are pointing, my shoulders are fighting to slide to one side, then roll back, and my whole body is aching with sitting still - if I stand up, I'll be lost.
Right now, it's Broadway on the radio. That doesn't matter. I could dance to orchestral music right now. I could dance to background conversation.
It's Saturday morning. I have errands to run, and hats to buy to protect my delicate nose from the Hawaiian sunshine. I have orders from my doctor to stay off my feet as much as possible. Somehow I think flinging myself around the room, stomping and leaping and spinning, doesn't quite match those instructions.
I don't want to turn off the radio, though. That would just make it worse. Right now, at least, I can dance in my mind even if I can't dance with my body. Soon, though, I'm going to give up fighting and just throw myself into the music. It'll hurt, but it's going to be so incredibly worth it....