Memories of an Old Dance

Do you believe in soul mates?

 “My darling, shall we dance?” He held out his hand in offering, and I automatically took it. The music was familiar; something we always dance to. He led me to just outside the fringe of dancers, and turned to face me. He grabbed my hip lightly as I placed my hand on his shoulder. Our fingers intertwined through our joined hands, the simple touch sending jolts of adrenaline through my body, and deep into my stomach.

He began to move, leading me in a familiar dance. I moved easily with him. We weren't just two people dancing, we became one. Moving in synchronization, knowing the exact move the other would make. People would always comment about how well we dance together.

I looked up, meeting his deep brown eyes, which held so much love it took my breath away. His long brown hair was tied back in an elegant pony tail. I imagined the times I was able to run my fingers through that soft hair, tangling my fingers in it. The memories sent a shiver through, pleasure coursing through my veins.

His strong jaw was softened with a smile as he looked down at me. I lifted my shoulder from his shoulder and caressed his cheek. I smiled back at him as everything and everyone disappeared. He leaned down to kiss me softly, never missing a beat in the dance. His lips met mine and sent a spark of want straight to my core.

He pulled away too quickly, and my hand dropped back to his shoulder. He leaned back down, this time to my ear, and softly whispered, “My love, you have my heart. You are mine as much as I am yours.” As he spoke these words to me, we continued to move outside of the group of dancers, and I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror.

My floor length, purple ball gown complimented my body, tight enough on my upper body to hint at my wondrous curves. At my hips, it flared out, falling to the floor. My brown hair, a few shades lighter than his, fell in waves and rested just below my breasts. Elegant pearls hung around my neck, an anniversary present from last year.

Beside me, he stood about six inches taller, a perfect height for me. Our bodies were pressed closely together, but not too close, so as not to be taken as inappropriate.

I looked away from the mirror and up at him just as the song stopped and we came to a stop. Stepping away, he kept my hand, and leaned down to kiss it sweetly. “You are a beautiful dancer, Mrs. Rolly,” he complimented me.

“As are you, Mr. Rolly.” I smiled sweetly at him, at the man I love. The man I would easily spend the rest of my life with, never second guessing it. We would grow old together, die together, and when we came back to life, we would again find each other. There was no doubt that we were soul mates. My one true love, and I swore to find him again when death separates us. Though we're both young and a long time from death, I smiled at the thought of another life with him.

***

I woke with a start, a cold sweat on my skin. That had been too real to be a dream. No, it was a memory. A memory of a past life. That had been me in the mirror. And as I looked to the other side of our bed, I knew who I would find there.

I found a man to whom I'm engaged. A man I'm supposed to love, and only him. A man I had lately been doubting.

He wasn't the man in my dream, though that man was no stranger. Mr. Rolly, known by the name Garrett these days. Garrett, my best friend, my shoulder to cry on, the one that I had developed feelings for, but was confused about them. Confused, because what if he saw me as only a friend?

But, after seeing that, I had to know. I couldn't marry this man in my bed. I crawled out from under the heavy blankets, and quietly walked down the stairs to the kitchen. I grabbed the phone off of the counter, and walked to the couch. Sitting down, I took a deep breath, and dialed the phone. As it began to ring, I wondered what time it was. I guessed it to be around four in the morning. Though I knew he would pick up anyways, I felt bad for waking him.

“Hello?” A rough, masculine voice asked on the other side of the line.

“Garrett,” I sighed his name, smiling. I remembered caressing his cheek, and the way his lips had felt on mine. Magic.

“Maria. Darling, what's wrong?” Concern filled his voice. He'd called me his darling at the beginning of the dream. Now, he used it as sort of a nickname, and I'd never thought much about it. At least, until now.

I chuckled at his response. He was always worrying about me, putting me first. “Oh, Garrett, everything's alright. I think,” I added, hoping that after this, I could still say that. “I just... I need to tell you something, and I think I've known for a long time.” I paused, trying to build the courage to say the words aloud. My heart pounded, and adrenaline coursed through my veins as I spit the words out. “Garrett, I'm in love with you.”