Valse sentimentale

A man enters a ball room.A tinge of sadness lines his eyes as it wanders thru the crowd.Searching,seeking for the one he covets above anything else.Not a familiar shadow in sight.The band begins playing.Curtsies exchanged.The dance is set into motion.His sight is pulled into the dance;against his will.The room whirls with the dancers;round and round they go,fast and slow.The music conducting each movement with ease;not a single beat is missed.All these swans full of grace and pleasure;finally set free from a winters chill.All free from their cages.All but one.A vacant space; within,without.His lament.The only one that matters.The only one that hasn't arrived.Grief creeps into every inch of his body.Into his very soul.Steps falter back into a corner,only a wall to hold him from a fall.She is not here, but why?Love was spoken but just this morning,promises were made...promises..A realization sweeps across his face,beads of sweat on his brow.He looks at the wall and curses.Of all the things between heaven and earth,how can he forget such a crucial matter.
He was her ride to the ball !