The Love Tango

There's a dance that most of us have done in our lifetime. I like to call it The Love Tango: two steps forward, one step back. The thing about this particular dance is that you, unfortunately, have to go it alone. It's probably the most frustrating life dance to be entwined in because it fools you into thinking that you have a partner, or that one is going to see you dancing by yourself and miraculously join in and save the day. The most painful part of this dance is that you can never do it quite right on your own. Either your tempo is off or your swing just isn't right -- and there you are in the dance studio we like to call Life dancing by yourself. Two steps forward, one step back.

The Love Tango can catch you at any time. For me it usually occurs when I enter the realm of should -- such a dangerous place to go. There I am having just made a nice dinner for myself. Staring out the window and eating alone I think: is this all there is? I should be enjoying this with someone else. The should is the part of the dance that leads to the back step. Should can also be interchangeable with shouldn't have to.

Shall we dance?

I shouldn't have to be sitting here on this beautiful night eating this nice meal that only I can appreciate. I should be enjoying this with someone else. Meals should be enjoyed over a nice conversation with wine and a little footsie followed by a walk around the block.

After the backstep you must go forward two steps. This is usually led by phrases that start with I'm fine or it's fraternal twin; I'll be fine.

Let's continue.

I'm fine on my own. I like my own company. I don't need anyone else to enjoy this moment. This moment has value all on it's own -- even if I'm the only one who can appreciate it. I'm just feeling sorry for myself. Snap out of it! I'll be fine in a minute.

Then the backstep.

But we're social creatures and we shouldn't have to live in isolation.

My personal flare to The Love Tango is a nice lift at the end of my last backstep -- it is here where the delusion of the dance takes me hostage. Sweaty and exhilerated from dancing off-kilter to the wrong tempo in this lonely ballroom, I get carried away and backslide hoping to spin -- knowing that a partner isn't going to lift me. It is this last step backwards that leads to the ulitmate consequence of a failed lift in this solo dance: the phone call.

The Love Tango always ends with a reminder that you are dancing the dance alone. That the partner you had hoped would join you to even out your tempo or keep you in balance, will not be in attendance. They don't even like to dance.

As I get off the phone and head back to the dinner I haven't finished I have no choice but to do what comes naturally and go two more steps forward.