I’m brought back to a Christmas Dance, or was it Valentine’s Day ?
Fifteen years old, and wet behind the ears….
A memory of a beautiful girl with Jet Black Hair, and a smile that would melt the frostiest of hearts. I recall the briefest of dances, and a polished hall floor – and a pair of eyes that I could have fallen into, those pools were so deep.
Here’s Me – shuffling my feet in distraction, Her – Smiling at me in gentle reassurance. I could have sworn she just winked at me. Her hand drifting softly into mine as we softly skipped across the wooden dance floor. And then with a peck on the cheek – it was over. We’d left the dance floor holding hands, but more as friends – not anything else.
Shoulda, woulda, coulda – comes to mind. I tried to remedy the situation a year later – but by then we were heading down different paths…It raised a titter down college corridors. So perhaps – If the clocks could be reversed – and I got that second chance,