Under the "influence"

It was one of the very first milongas I was brave enough to attend alone. I strapped on my black suede tango shoes and gathered the courage to look up at the room full of people. And there he was... looking straight at me from the other end of the dance floor. An attractive man in his 40's with a sexy mysterious smile and dark brown eyes so penetrating that I can still feel them. He gave me the cabeceo and I responded with a nod. I waited in place as I watched him make his way towards me. Without breaking from our gaze, he raised his left hand inviting me into his embrace... I melted into him as if I've always belonged there. I closed my eyes and took in his musky scent; masculine and exotic. We both took a deep breath and took our very first step into tango oblivion. He moved with precision and confidence...I became the brush in the hands of an artist. I realized then that I've never surrendered myself so completely to a total stranger before. We must have danced for over an hour without speaking much, other than a few exchange of words in between dances. He was a writer visiting from the Netherlands. It was his last night in NYC and he was heading to Boston for the next two weeks before flying back home. When the milonga ended, he told me he felt very fortunate to have met me and politely asked if I'd mind that he wrote me. (what? If I would mind??) I tried to contain the excitement in my reply..."Sure, here's my email address", before floating away with a big smile on my face.

We started corresponding through email that week.....couldn’t wait to learn more about each other. Before we knew it, emails turned into phone calls. We'd talk for hours each night...I was falling in love..... his voice, his silence.. breathing on the other end. The day before he was supposed to fly home, it was decided. As crazy as it was, we had to see each other in the flesh. He rescheduled his flight and I got on the next train to Boston. Thoughts were racing through my mind. Oh the distance! What if it was an illusion? What if the magic belonged to that night only and should have been left on the dance floor?? Maybe the allure was just the mystery of this perfect 3 minute love affair? Is it a mistake to think that it could be achieved in real life?

As I was approaching Boston, I had thousands, no, millions of butterflies in my stomach. I couldn’t get there fast enough, at the same time my steps felt heavier than ever. What was about to happen? I was anxious and afraid to find out. I spotted his blue shirt before his eyes found me. The last steps were the hardest. He smiled and reached out to hold me. In his arms again, this time standing on the train platform, I knew right there and than it wasn't him all along.... it was the arms of tango I had fallen in love with. I held in my disappointment while we chatted over a few drinks, then caught the next train back to New York. Lesson learned... objects may appear larger than life, when you're under the "influence".
Until the next encounter.

xoxo
Malena