fox-trotting.

life is a little different alone.
you start to wonder if you've been walking in a dream all this time.
always having someone by your side is, well, not too short of suffocating.
but then again, do i ask to be suffocated? or is it because this is all i've known?

the reason i'm good at dancing is because it consists of two parts:
learning by watching,
and faking it, as the expression goes, "until you make it."
i think i've developed my patterns in life like a choreography.
i know each step inside and out.
and to me, it's common sense.
but at the root of it all, who has designed this dance?
and more importantly, am i still propelling myself with new energy,
or do i dance because the momentum hasn't yet worn off?

this change has fallen heavily upon me now.
i often feel as if i'm playing roles in a film.
this is not me. that is not me. oh, look, there i go...
my life is narrated by a jaded philosopher, sitting on a bench,
in a corner of my mind.
where i draw the distinction isn't even clear to me.
she and i are one, or rather, i am she and we are none.
i suppose i've found my partner after all...