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The Girl in the Pretty Pink Dress By Frater M.O. | |
Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law.  As I buttoned the top button and tucked in the shirttails into my Hagar action-slacks I fantasized about all the possibilities that lay ahead. Shortly, I was out the door going to my first school dance. I rehearsed some sure-fire opening lines I found in Playboy's Advisor section. The women would swoon and couldn't help but gleefully agree to dance with me. I skipped the whole way to school.The darker parts of my psyche didn't kick into until I arrived at the doors of the school's gymnasium. I could feel the bass pulse in my hand as I placed it on the door handle. A quick pull released a wave of disco, colored lights and awkwardly dancing silhouettes across a packed dance floor, which slammed my senses. My brain began to run amuck. "What a loser, no one will dance with you. You can't dance anyway. Your shirt is wrinkled. You have no style and everyone notices you're alone." I was defenseless to my own mind's barrage of insults. I turned around to leave but the door had mysteriously closed behind me both literally and figuratively. I felt I had no choice but to journey deeper into the belly of the great beast. Every step I took my legs became heavier. I could feel my body temperature rise as I sensed panic crawl up my spine. I instinctively searched for the safety of a wall to lean on while my mind buzzed around the necessity of a clip-on tie I needed to complete the awful outfit I was wearing. I trudged a zigzag path towards three empty chairs poised against an overly decorated wall. "No" I thought, "too isolated, too conspicuous." I changed direction towards a group of popular girls gabbing in a tight circle on the edge of the dance floor. "Maybe I should just ask one of them to dance. That would sure show some balls walking in the middle of them, how impressive." I pushed out a quivering chest and marched towards my fate. My eyes steadied on the task at hand. As I closed in a cute brunette looked up from the pack (a girl I didn't know but would eventually screw) caught my stare. "Don't make eye contact, she might kill me" I thought. My eye line hit the floor; I rotated a quarter-turn and marched past the gaggle of gals. I found myself on the edge of the dance floor against a pillar near the punchbowl. I felt safer as if I was hiding in plain site. I waited. I am not sure what I was waiting for, maybe a miracle. A familiar face or the goddess of all women to come and claim me. As time slowly ticked by I became more confident to lift my head up from admiring my shoes to discover it wasn't that bad. I looked around, watched the dancers and noticed a lot of people who started to look like me... out of place, unsure of themselves. I was comforted. Then, I noticed her. Leaning on a pillar just like mine but on the other side of the dance floor. She wore a pretty pink dress. She was flushed and nervous and seemed to call to me. She was attractive in a familiar way, the same way tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich always made me feel not alone. In that moment she was my savior. I watched her as she scanned the crowd and ran her finger around the mouth of a Dixie-cup filled with watered-down Kool-Aid. She must have felt my gaze and turned towards me. I didn't turn away this time as our eyes met. She looked at me and slowly broke into a warm, perfect smile before coyly looking away. I watched her pretend to move some imaginary object on the floor with her shoe (her motion accompanying a heavy sigh.). I thought I was in a movie. She again raised her head to meet my smile. A smile I recall as being genuine, a rarity during a part of my life when everything was done for show. I raced through the list of pre-planned opening lines. None could encompass the moment with just the right amount of panache. I waited for an inspiration that I could convey my thought and feelings accurately. For several minutes we gazed at each other as the right introduction sat on the tip of my tongue. Our gaze was broken by an outstretched arm tapping her bare shoulder obscured the view of her face. It was some guy I recognized from math class. He leaned into her and began to whisper something. As he spoke to her a knot swelled in my stomach and my mind raced to find pile of character flaws about this interloper. None came to mind. She nodded "yes" in my direction then we continued to hold eye contact as she took his hand and they walked out on the dance floor. "He made it look so easy", I thought, "Ugh, I am so stupid." When she gets off the dance floor I should just walk right up to her and say hi." While I watched them dance together I practiced a variety of "hellos" and several affirmations. It was a fast song, which meant they would keep their distance from each other. By the end of the first song I rationalized it was wise to let her dance with someone else first. I could spy her steps and copy them. So when it was my turn we would be in synch. I felt better about this rationalization. However, I was concerned that she seemed to be enjoying herself over the next few songs, still dancing with him. She walked off the dance floor and straight back to the spot she held before. A spot I had magically held empty through intense concentration. The other guy was no where in sight. Again she looked at me. Her smile still so inviting. This was it. I had to make my move. I took a deep breath and straightened the front of my shirt. The knot in my stomach returned as every step towards her felt like I was walking through a swimming pool. "Be cool, be cool", I repeated. I began to sweat. I wondered if I put on deodorant. I feared I would say the exact thing the previous guy had said. That couldn't be good. I needed something original but "hello, would you like to dance" seemed average. "Hi, would you like to take a spin around the floor", was worse. The space between her and me closed. She pretended not to notice my awkward approach. Spin versus dance, hello versus hi, it all seemed so complicated. I needed an absolute plan; I wasn't ready for all this intensity. Uncontrollably my direction changed towards the exit and I left. I walked out in the empty hallway feeling like a jerk. The cool night air startled me into reality; there was more to life than the inside of that gymnasium. The echo my loafers made down the hall reminded me how alone I was at that moment. I found myself in the bathroom reading graffiti surrounded by stray paper towels and an encompassing stink of mildew and urine. I had to go back and ask her to dance, I just didn't know how. I ran through as many clever lines as I could think but none seemed right. The seconds passed into minutes and time stopped having meaning. I stopped thinking about how to approach the girl in the pretty pink dress and started thinking about sports scores and uncompleted homework. My mood had also changed. I went from the anticipation and excitement of the unknown to the boredom and malaise of the usual. An hour had passed, I rationalized that it was safe to go back in and try my luck with the girl in the pretty pink dress again. Secretly knowing I had blown my chance, she would be dancing with someone else. She will have forgotten about a few brief glances across a crowded room. "It didn't mean anything anyway", I surmised. A philosophy I mistakenly held on to for years to come. I walked back inside the gymnasium. Loud music, colored lights and gyrating bodies still shook the room. I found my way back to my pillar and looked for her. She was no longer there. I combed the gymnasium, the dance floor and up and down the halls of the school to no avail. I have few regrets... at least the kind that find their way into my mind for any period of time. I am not referring to an accidental slip of the tongue or a forgotten appointment. I'm talking about the regrets that have staying power. Like flashing billboard signs chronicling the past that become distractions, impeding spiritual progress and taking up valuable head-space that might otherwise be used for accomplishment. These regrets all have one thing in common... they are all actions I failed to take. Although I have had great fear, the reality of rejection and failure has never held anything more than a passing thought in their aftermath. I have come to know regrets as defining moments that symbolize an obstacle that must be overcome or learned from in order to find and do the True Will. Today, I understand this concept and still have fear but I take the action anyway without the lust of result. The girl in the pretty pink dress is not simply being scared about dancing with a girl. Nor is it the fear of being told, "no." It is the fear of putting myself on the line completely. The willingness to be judged, for better or worse. It is the issue I find at the core of myself, the Tiphareth center. For me, an obstacle that can keep myself from balance, doing my Will and happiness. I have become a pretty good dancer Questions, comments and hate mail are strongly encouraged. By the way these thoughts do not necessarily reflect the ideals of Cor Lucis as a whole or its members... but they might. Love is the law, love under will.
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