Things have been crazy lately. All I can do lately is cry and think about the men and relationships I’ve lost. My family has been driving me up a wall, my birthday is coming up, and I’m on my period. Things are going fan-freaking-tastic.
With all of this going on, I’m trying to stay grounded.
I’m throwing myself into dance, the only way I know how to deal. Maybe the passions of a new dance will sweep me off my feet into a wave of happiness. Tango is exactly what a love forlorn gal like me needs.
The passion, the intensity, the emotion… the sexiness of it. The music is intoxicating. As I’m writing, Astor Piazzolla is flooding through my earbuds.
The atmosphere is very different from Lindy Hop. Lindy is happy, silly, outgoing. Tango is the woman that ensnares your senses. She plays hard to get. She drives you wild, and suddenly disappears. You can’t help but want more.
God knows I’ve been happy for too long. I’ve been flying high in the clouds of love. I don’t want to fly anymore, I want to stay stuck on the ground. If I’m dancing tango, I don’t think the ground is all that bad.