Falling in Love

I can’t stop blushing on the way home, listening to the two songs “Enchanted” and “Good Life” over and over again. The memories come to me in flashbacks. Seeing you at the wedding. I was a guest, and you were one of the groomsmen, and I remember thinking, “He’s short, but he’s handsome.” Later, at the reception, leaning on the wall looking at the dance floor, hoping against hope that someone would ask me to dance, because I wanted to dance, to laugh, to enjoy myself. Then you came, my knight in shining armor, and you just introduced yourself and said, “Would you like to dance?” Oh, yes, I did. We danced, and I remember you twirling me, and talking to me, getting to know me. After the dance, trying to make my dad and brother jealous. Later, feeling lonely again, leaning on the same wall, and watching you slowly make your way over. We talked, and then that song came on, the song I will always remember, “Good Life.” Your exited eyes, and your question, “Could we dance to this?” “Sure, a slow dance.” “Then would you like to…?” You didn’t even have to finish your sentence before we grabbed each other’s hands and wove in between the tables, to the empty dance floor. Half-way through the song, I noticed that we were the only dancers, then thinking fiercely, “I don’t care! I don’t care what anyone thinks. I hope nobody joins us for this dance, so it can be ours,” and remembering that first dance, and what you told me. I must admit: No, no I didn’t really know I was beautiful, not until you said it. But when you did, I realized, yes, I am beautiful, and you are handsome, and here we are, dancing together. I wasn’t the bride at that wedding, you weren’t the groom, but when we danced alone together, when I looked into your eyes, I felt like the only person who mattered to you, and you were the only one who mattered to me.