I used to dance when I was a kid. I was a spontaneous dancer. Everytime music would play I would automatically dance. I was a shameless dancer. I actually remember that.
Somewhere between the age of 6 and 12 I put away the dancing. Maybe I realized I wasn't any good at it (which I doubt, because I would dance at will, without thinking whether I was good or lousy). Or maybe it was the new culture at home brought on by a new parent (my Dad remarried).
Sometime mid-may, V and I went to an informal Salsa dancing class. Dancing again. It's akin to love. A grace in a blighted world. An expression of humanity that is poetic in nature.
I'm so glad V has the dance-bug in him. It's corny but it's like quoting directly from "The Bridges of Madison County." He has given me "room to dance again."