Dances

    He sat staring out at the snow covered mountains and let out a sigh. He watched his breath flow out before him in a cloud of cold, harsh memories.
Yeah, he was alone and he wanted it that way. He liked the way his life was. Uncomplicated. No one to tell him how to do things or control his movements. He could come and go as he pleased. Stay out all night if he felt like it.
He shook his head sadly as he crushed the cigarette out in the ashtray.
Fuck, who was he fooling with his adolescent ramblings. One would think he was a mere slip of a boy when he was a man. A successful man. He had made it. Not without scars but he made it.
He turned and went back into the house, the cold air finally driving into his skin enough he felt chilled to the bone.
The house was quiet.
He stood looking into the living room wondering if a good movie was on tonight.
Fuck it. Bed. He would just go to bed.
Was easier to sleep and not feel the crushing loneliness.

    The beer before him had gone flat and he stared at the television over the bar without really seeing it. His mind had gone to thoughts of her. That gorgeous little thing he left behind so long ago. He wondered what his life would have been like if he had taken her hand and run off with her. He knew she was a wild thing. A woman who was incredibly alive. It scared him. To be around someone who could fade into the background as easily as light the room up with her incredible smile.

"You're thinking hard aren't you?" a voice said next to him and he turned to see one of his friends there. He smiled and nodded.

"Yeah. A lot on my mind these days." he said and looked back to the television.

He noticed his friend settled down next to him and waited quietly. That is what he liked about him, he never pressed but then most guys knew not to press. A woman now, they would press but that one, she did not press. She understood. Truly. Deeply. Honestly. Understood what he was about and even if she did not agree, she still saw the good side of his soul. Fuck. Fuck. He messed up. He knew it.
The small crack in his steel wall he built around his heart to protect him from such emotions cracked and he almost groaned aloud at the pain that lanced him.

"I miss her." He said softly staring now at the golden liquid in the glass.

His friend knew who she was, he was the only one who ever knew of this little fireball that entered his life for a short time. The one he wanted to just lay down and be who he was with. But that was too scary and it pissed him off to know he was afraid so he did what he always did. Shut her out.

"What do you miss the most?" his friend said softly.

He thought about that a moment. He missed how she smelled. How her skin felt under his hands. How her green eyes would go so dark with desire when he kissed her. How she could make him laugh, even when his day was so bad. She made him smile and feel true joy for being alive. The mountains were more magnificent. He wanted to dance to every song. And each love song reminded him of her.

"She dances to the songs in her head, speaks with the rhythm of her heart, and loves from the depths of her soul. She made me want to dance with her and learn those fanciful songs. I wanted to be the reason her heart skipped a beat. And most of all..." he looked at his friend who was watching him with sad eyes.
"I wanted to know the depths of her soul. To know her completely and not be afraid of losing myself."

He stopped talking for the lump in his throat would not allow him to continue. This is what he could not handle. These wild and deep emotions. They were not allowed in his life. He wanted to love but on his terms. Not a slave to someone else.
But then kneeling to her....would it have been so bad?

"It sounds like you need to go dancing. Take a chance my friend. You might surprise yourself." his friend squeezed his shoulder and walked off.

His gaze lifted to the television and there he saw a woman dancing on the beach, long dark hair flowing out behind her as the sun set behind her. He felt his heart skip a beat and he looked away.

How could he ever mend what had been broken?
Dare he try?

He sighed not knowing what to do.