You may not remember me, but I remember you. Perhaps I can refresh your memory. It was the summer of 2004 and you had been learning how to salsa dance. I was out for an evening of dancing with my friend Andrea, who was visiting from out of town for the week. You asked me to dance that night at Beso del Sol in Seattle. We danced several dances and you taught me a little of what you had been learning. You bought me a drink and we talked for a while. You were handsome and funny and I enjoyed every moment. That night you gave me your number after I did not give you mine. I’m writing today to tell you I’m sorry I never called—you see, I had a boyfriend at the time and could not. This particular boyfriend and I did not last all that long, but when I was available again enough time had passed that I did not bother to call you. I sometimes considered going to Century Ballroom for their salsa lessons in the hope that I would run into you there. I should have. I should have called you. You were great.
This last weekend I found the card you wrote your name and number on for me. I’ve kept it all these years to remind myself to take a few more chances. To live my life so that in later years I would never look back and regret missing out on an opportunity to live.
Thank you for our one evening of dancing.
Love,
Windy Dawn
P.S. Years have passed and I do not know where your life has taken you, but if you are still single I would very much like to go dancing with you again.
For those wondering about the name Wen... yes, I went Latin dancing and found the one Asian man in the room. Would you expect any less from me?
ReplyDeleteI like how you keep the card to remind yourself to be more daring. I'm definitely not daring in my dating life, but sometimes I think, why not? At least it would be an interesting experience. I feel like there are probably some neat opportunities that I missed. Oh, well.
ReplyDeleteAnd I love how you found the one Asian man in the room1