You Don’t Know What You Have Until It’s Gone
I went away for the summer.
I left the comfort of my home for dance. It’s a passion of mine, dancing. (As is music: creating it, the piano. I won’t write about it too much, however; it barely has any relevance to this blog.) There’s something about learning how to use each and every part of my body—muscles, hips, legs, back, the arches of my feet, even my eyes—that gets me so addicted. What’s even more enticing than the movement of my body are the reactions I can create to my partner’s movements.
That’s why I left, I found a dance partner in New York, and let me start off by saying he is one of, if not the most wonderful person I have ever met. It scares me a little at how wired our minds are. Our thought processings, logic, views, and interests are so compatible; maybe even more-so than mine and my best friend’s.
He listens. I listen. We can talk about anything or not talk at all and still feel comfortable. I find such an ease to pull out my deepest thoughts and emotions. It’s like I want him to know everything. I trust him.
I told him about my childhood friend. I told him something I’ve never told anyone before, nor do I plan on telling anyone. There is no point. I cried and I felt comfortable. He was comforting. There is something about this guy that gives off such good energy that is inevitable to feed off of.
The other day a feeling overcame me. I wasn’t sure what it was at first. Loneliness. I missed love. I still do. I miss the routine of hearing it everyday from people who mean it. I miss my mom’s everything is going to be alright “I love you.” I miss my dad’s I’m so proud of you “I love you.” I miss hugging the people that truly care for me and I care for. I miss feeling something for someone…
I can develop strong friendships, friendships like I have with my partner. It has been a while, though, since I’ve really truly had strong feelings for anyone.
