Admidst the awkward twenty year old uni groups, and the Sixty year old DJ who should be in bed, my best friend takes my hand and leads me onto the floor and even though it's old eighties music and the floor is sticky like marmalade and the disco balls spin around the room... for a minute I'm Ginger Rogers, and he's Fred Astaire, and our smiles glisten all the way to our eyes and we giggle because we feel like we're in on some secret that they're not.
And everyone's staring because he's 6"foot with a shaved head and a gangster attitude and I'm 5"4 nothing wearing a cocktail dress and black boots and my short black bob cut makes me look ostentatious.
We know we're out of place but we're not misfits. We're not misfits, because we have each other.
And we fit because it's effortless. Unconditional. And like all good music, our friendship only gets better with time.
No comments:
Post a Comment