Tango (Part 2)

I've fallen for your eyes but they don't know me yet 
And the feeling I forget I'm in love now. 

- Kiss Me, Ed Sheeran

I was afraid and excited and...pretty happy. I knew that that dance would be one hell of a dance the moment you placed your hand on mine.

The first step was perfect -- done at the same time and on the same beat. We spun and waltzed across the dance floor. It was exactly what a tango's supposed to be. It was precise. Passionate. Hot. My eyes have betrayed me: all I can see were glimpses of this and that whizzing past me. Not that I cared that much. My other senses were so...heightened, it was scary. It's as if I can hear a million things at the same time, can feel a million things at the same time. I was having a frighteningly great time.

I couldn't have asked for a better dance partner, too. I can't really describe it, you know? It's like it has this binding magic of its own. You have your own brand of magic. I remember everything in great precision and in a blur, too, if that's even possible. At that time, it didn't matter to me anymore if I were still dancing it right, if I were still moving my feet the way I would've if we were back in the rehearsal studio. Yet you were there to remind me to breathe when I felt like I was about to lose my sanity, to give instructions when I felt like going over the edge, to pull me back when I felt like ignoring the rules of this intricate dance. But I still let the music take over. I let myself loose and danced like I have never danced before. I tried to put as much heart and soul in it without disfiguring the steps, without disregarding the rules.

The dance was almost over when you did something totally unexpected. You improvised. You started going to the left when every book says stay right. After pulling and pulling and pulling me back, you brushed aside the conventional dance patterns, changed our pace and just started really dancing. With me.

Suddenly, it wasn't just about dancing the tango just for the heck of it. It was dancing the tango as if my life depended on it. It was, ultimately, dancing the tango with you.

Tango (Part 1)

You don't have to put on that red light...You don't care if it's wrong or if it is right

- El Tango de Roxanne, Moulin Rouge!

I wanted to dance. I felt it in my bones.

Music was playing. It was loud. But beautiful loud, you know? It made me feel so alive. Each note, each beat, every word. I have never felt like this before. It was something very familiar but something very new. How is that even possible, I wondered. But reason was reduced to nothing but a blur when I heard that old song from not so long ago. Next thing I knew, I was singing. I was humming and I wanted to dance. I was singing and I wanted to tango.

Let me tell you, I really, really wanted to dance. But, for some weird reason, I kept on declining offers. It didn't feel right. No, not with this song. If they have played any other song, I would've gladly danced with them. But not this one. Not this one.

Then, I saw you.

I felt it in a rush. I knew I just had to dance with you. You looked at me from across the dance floor but those glances you threw my way were not enough for me to know for certain if you thought of me competent enough to tango with you. So, I brushed the thought aside and tried to stop myself from raising my hands and dancing to those taunting violin strings.

My song ended and another one began. Brushing aside the disappointment was harder than I thought. I started walking away...

...when you grabbed me by the hand.

And the dance began.

On Making Decisions

I read somewhere that we make about "217 food-related decisions a day". I think we get more or less half of them wrong. That's why we gain (or lose) weight without us knowing. Most girls are slaves to that flat, board-like object lying on the floor. One itsy bitsy line (on that weighing scale, that is) defines our utmost triumph and joy (followed by days of high self-confidence and that liberating "I'm-sexy-and-I-know-it" vibe) or pure anguish and frustration (followed by another week of very limiting diets and really painful physical activities).

It's amazing how, most of the time, crossing one itsy bitsy line defines the course of action we undertake in our lives. It can make us. It can break us. It most definitely affects us. And, most of the time, there is no turning back. The numbers you see when you step on the weighing scale become insignificant when you think of how there are so many other things that you cannot lose (or gain back) once you've crossed that line.

(And they say losing or gaining weight is one of the hardest things a girl encounters in her life. Ha! Yeah, right.)

So what must a girl to do when she is perched on that fence, sitting and thinking of the right thing to do? Must she heed her instinct or carefully think things through? Must she go for the practical choice or the popular decision? Must she be selfish or think of the feelings of the people around her?

Must she listen to her mind's reason? Must she listen to her heart's desire?

Based on experience, I'd like to say that it doesn't really matter. What matters most is that you are ready to face the consequences of that choice. Remember that it is always a fifty-fifty thing: you are never sure if you've done the right thing unless it has been shoved up in your face and you can see it as clear as day. So anticipate that uplifting feeling of pride and satisfaction in what you have done. However, be ready to accept the crushing agony of defeat and shame when you realize that you have gone down the wrong road and that you are lost.

And, when you do get lost, remember the reason why you chose that road anyway. Try to recall all the pros and cons you have listed down (or the lack thereof) that led you to that direction. Remind yourself. Make sure you're sure. No, not of the fact that you made the right decision (because there is no way of knowing, like what I have mentioned earlier) but of the reasons behind that particular choice. See, there is nothing worse than doubting yourself. Second-guessing never helped and never will.

We make decisions every day. Some major ones, some minor ones. Like the ripples when a pebble is thrown in the middle of a lake, remember that it is the effects of our choices -- even the small ones -- that define us. Sometimes, it takes just one teeny tiny line to determine who we are. While we may not always know where to stand, may we always have the courage to stand...and to stand tall.