That girl at the party is talking to everyone, she slides gracefully from shoulder to shoulder. Whispering secrets, telling jokes that leave them laughing in her wake. Her confidence is alluring. just a touch on the inside of an arm “excuse me, can I get through” and several excited eyes follow her as she sways into the center of the room. Happy in the epicenter of activity she moves freely, arms outstretched, feeling the music move her.
When the emotion leaves her she melts back into the mass of bodies, smiling and carefree. Nothing ties her down and nothing stops her from doing exactly as she wants. She walks out of the party without looking back, not on the guest list but that never stops her from having a good time.
Standing in the hotel lobby, waiting for the elevator I can see inside the room. Stuffed with bodies, sweating and smiling. The girl who could walk into that party, dance in that crowd, is not me. She’s not me but I take her with me when the bell rings and it’s time to go to my floor. When the elevator doors close I can see my reflection in the buffed metal. Somewhere, deep in the dark behind of my mind is the girl who’s still dancing…still living as she pleases, no excuses.