From January 1994 until September 2012
I used to go dancing once or twice a week.
Well, there was about a year in there
that I didn’t go as often.
I was in a relationship and I felt like going dancing
was like stepping out…
because the way I danced
usually led to men dancing with me.
Later, I realized that dancing gave me joy,
and I resumed my weekly routine.
But in the last 6.5 years I’ve only
danced a handful of times.
The change happened when I moved to New York.
My mode of transportation changed from private
to public…
and getting around all dolled up
became a slightly more frightening
experience.
In 4 months I’ll be 45 years old
and maybe 45 year olds don’t go dancing anymore.
People always tell me I look younger,
and usually I feel younger too…
but lately I’ve been feeling old.
Death has taken far too many friends and idols
in the last several years for me to pretend that
the time I have left won’t just continue to dwindle.
I tell myself I can decide to change.
To change back.
But I remind myself that I need to be out tomorrow
and Monday
and I should take things slowly.
And I know that I’ve somehow gotten old,
or at least that my thinking has changed over time,
that I think in responsible bursts
before everything blurs
and diminishes…
fading away into dust.
Written by Jason Wright
April 14, 2019