May I have this dance?

ps, I'm sorry

As we sit perched on the tallest building we can find, I dwell in my thoughts and form an appreciative song towards life. To linger in such vastness and still feel like I belong, like I may be of purpose and woven with intricate design, is a blessing. Yet in all these wonders and compositions, I still yearn for a place higher than this. That in all of this, the only place that felt complete is with my Creator and so with that I have a calling to go home. I don’t have much to give and there’s nothing of human essence that can satisfy me, thus I ask, as a bestowal of my leave, may I have this dance?

May you take my hand and at that interception, may all that’s left unsaid find a home. As we take this dance, let the turns, the pace, the steps all serve as translations; that we need not only words to form understanding. May we get lost in this embrace so as to hold in esteem what lays fleeting to us; with the absence of a path let us swell in appreciation for the One who guides us to one. And may this dance fill the space I used to stand, lest I be remembered with loneliness.

As you guide my hand in this dance, may you, in the same breath, guide me to my planted uncertainties. Assent to my arrival in these places that brim with question marks and inconsistencies so that I might lay them to rest. As I leave, let it be with clarity and confidence. I am sure in my parting, let me be sure with how I want to be remembered.

With my hand in yours, and the length of your arm bringing me closer, reminding you — and me of an embrace. An embrace that only we shared, one that carried all my tears, all your tears, sheltered all my insecurities and all of yours too; an embrace that reminds us of where to go when the world gets too heavy. And as you twirl me on the roof of that building, may you be granted the understanding of change and may that soften the blow when you realize I’m no longer here with you. No longer will our embrace be complete, so I pray that this dance will fill every void.

With the end of the dance upon us and the fire of the moment burned down, let the ashes stain you and be with you, let them cling to your pockets and the fabric of your cloth so that in some sentimental way, you’ll carry this day wherever your feet may thread. I loved love you and I say this in present tense because so long as you don’t forget me, I’m not dead. Enjoy life to the fullest and let my absence encourage you to be present. Live your life dearest, live.