I can’t move. I just ran onto a dance floor that’s so goddamn crowded you can’t even bother to apologize for who you bump into. I’ve been on here a few times and each time I’ve wanted off. Yet it’s been so long it’s beginning to hold appeal. So I let go of his hand, put down my drink and just went in. I wanna move with the rest of them, find a rhythm that suits me and just go. I avoid his posture as he sits on the barstool and waits for me to come back. I don’t want to see him hunched and shaking. I don’t want to know he’s crying. He doesn’t understand why I’d go back to something that has made me feel so miserable before, doesn’t get it when I say I need to figure it out. He will never get why i went back on that dance floor and didn’t pull him in with me. Maybe he does get it, understands it to the fullest, but what he can’t do is accept it.