Archival001: *I Love You*

The ballroom fills with people, couples dancing to the orchestra’s swelling music, ladies whispering behind their fans about that one prince, men walking around the ballroom with their noses to the sky to impress the shy girls. I stand in the corner and observe. I made my dress; I look to my skirt with quiet. I did the embroidery, but I don’t know if you’ll know that.

The orchestra begins to play Tchaikovsky; with the first ethereal chord every lady jumps up and runs to any man they can find. This is the one dance no one wants to miss; the music is too hypnotic not to dance to. As I dance my eyes across the ballroom of chaos, I see that you don’t. Your green eyes are fixed at the ceiling in awe as you admire the frescos. It makes me laugh how interested you are in such ancient art.

"Eliza," someone calls from within the mist of dancers, "why aren’t you dancing?" The voice giggles before fading into the cloudy utopia of music and dance. I’m not dancing because you aren’t, I say, still looking only at you.

The music swells. It draws me closer. Amidst the picturesque scenery of twirling ladies in their exquisite ball gowns and smiling men in fancy suits I see you. My lungs tighten as you look at me. I want to look away, but I can’t. Your green eyes bring me to you. Why can’t I take my eyes off your white buttoned suit?

The dance hastens. The dancers move in front of you. Pain pricks my heart as you fade out of sight. I need to see you. I breathe deeply. The warm air fills my lungs as I enter the ring of dancers. I move from man to man as the music sways like a ship at sea. I know this dance like the back of my hand. Do you? Will you reach me in the end? 

I am frantically swept into the round of dancers like a leaf in a winter’s storm. The music becomes louder. The people dance quicker. I still can’t see you. I slowly give in to the sound of music and close my eyes. Men come and go, their gloved hands supporting mine as we dance around the ballroom, my dress swaying with the music as I get lost in euphoria. I suddenly open my eyes as I lose my touch, my balance. I can’t breathe. The ballroom dancers become blur of colours, and the music becomes taunting laughter. How long did I close my eyes for? Seconds feel like years as everyone changes partners for the last time.

A firm hand clasps my back and takes my hand into his. His low, rich voice laughs slightly as I regain focus. "Are you alright?",  he asks.

I look up at the dancer. His green eyes stare lovingly into mine. My mouth stays agape, eager to let the words slip off my tongue but I can’t. The eyes that stare into mine are yours. The hands that hold me are yours. The voice that talks to me is yours. Blood rushes to my cheeks, I feel my face heating up as we start to dance. All you do is smile, you smile from ear to ear.

"I’m- I’m doing fine," I scrunch my nose in embarrassment; I’ve never stammered in front of anyone before, but your gaze takes me to a place far away, a place I never wish to return from.

You laugh again, your warm voice filling my soul with light. But just as I reach my moment of ecstasy, the music ends — its final chord ringing in my ears. The crowd claps and laughs; the ladies rush to each other to speak of the men they met. But I don’t want to leave you.

You caress my face and smile.

You look me in the eye and say, « I hope we meet again, in another utopia. »

Men in suits walk around us. Women in big dresses float around us. I stay here, with you. But you prepare to leave me. Nothing can come out of me. Only a single tear rolls down my cheek. You wipe it clean and come closer to me, I feel your breath on my neck, "it’s okay, I will still be with you."

I know you’re lying. This can’t be right. I hold your hand to my face for a moment longer and close my eyes.

When I open them again, my hand touches my face, your green eyes don’t stare back at me. I stare aimlessly at the frescos lining the ballroom, the frescos you once loved. The orchestra plays with untuned instruments, the dancers dance in rags. I furrow my brows as my vision blurs. Taking my hands to my eyes I rush to the exit of the ballroom, crying the tears I should have cried years ago.