She was Free

She danced for him. She moved like water from a soft stream. She danced like her life depended on it, like it was her last dance. He loved watching her move, watching her make love to the movement to the beat of the song. She danced like she was happy, angry, sad. Nobody could tell her she couldn’t dance, because chances were that they themselves couldn’t dance.

She manipulated the elements to move with her.

On hot summer nights, she danced like there was a fire in her belly and she was desperate to get it out.

On rainy spring days, she moved with the water, and the water moved with her. Rain mixed with sweat drove her to bold movements, turns, and aggravation all melding together to create something far more dangerous than any monster or demon.

He would watch her through the window, in person, and on videos. Each dance was more intense than the next. She was always alone dancing, never with another soul. It seemed like she was fighting with her spirit when she danced. Like she didn’t want to let it go, but her soul wanted to be free. Much like her. She danced in the dark, in the street, in parks, in school, at work…everywhere she heard music or when her soul was heavy. Her heart could have been broken into a million little shards, and she would still dance.

She danced until her heart stopped beating.

When her heart stopped beating, she realized, as her body lay lifeless, losing color and warmth, she was finally free.

Her soul danced for him, and his for her.