Feet, I know I've neglected you...
Oh my dancing feet, I can only apologize profusely for the last two months of neglect. I know that you can’t possibly understand why we weren’t dancing the night away, why we turned down all those invitations to come dancing at ATOMIC, but I promise, I’ll make it up to you.
I know that you don’t want to hear my reasons for why we haven’t been dancing, but you do know that I just finished my Bachelor’s degree, right? Dear feet, all I ask is that you give me a little understanding, and know that I will make up for all those times that the only dancing you got was a little toe tapping underneath my desk. I know that you’re thoroughly convinced that I might not even remember how to be social, or how to have a conversation with someone about something other than statistics. I know that you’re convinced that I won’t remember all the dance steps that we’ve learned over the years, and that all the fun we had together didn’t mean a thing.
But rest assured, feet, that is all behind me. I have several pairs of new dance shoes for you to try out, including sueded Chuck Taylors, and next week we’ll be dancing the days and nights away in New Orleans. What do you say, feet? Will you give me another chance to prove that although we parted briefly, that I am still a dancer at heart? That our shared love for Lindy will keep us dancing the rest of our years?
I hope that our newfound free time will be the start of a new relationship between us, feet. You’ve always kept me on my toes.
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