Forever and a Day
âDo you remember the first time we danced together?â
ââNo,â he whispered, his voice soft and sad in the darkness, âI do not.â
ââI do. Iâll never forget. It was our first Christmas together⊠I remember waiting alone. It felt like Iâd been alone forever. I had no idea you were right there, waiting for me, too. I remember the crinkle of wrapping paper torn open and the excited laughter of the children. I remember that the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree and the candles burning all around were the first most beautiful things I had ever seen⊠can you see it? Even a little?â
âHis voice came to her, softer and sadder still, almost a whisper, âI cannot.â
âShe continued on, dream-like, trying to weave the memory back together for him, âThen the music began to play. A soft, sweet, tinkling chime. There were no words. We only learned what they were years and years later, remember?â This time she did not wait for his reply and continued on, âI simply had to dance â I couldnât help myself, I was compelled to twirl along with each beautiful, perfect note. I heard the children catch their breaths as the lights of the tree and the glow from the candles made the sequins on my dress seem to almost catch fire⊠it was like magic. No, it was magic. I felt like the most beautiful girl in the whole wide world. Everyone was watching me. And then there you were â a fairytale prince for a fairytale princess! Before Iâd completed my first turn, I found myself in your arms. You were the first most perfect man with whom Iâd ever danced. And youâve been my one and only since the very beginning⊠you were so dashing in your black tuxedo and that red bow tie Iâve always loved so much, and the way your deep brown eyes locked on mineâŠâ
âSuddenly, from the depths of that long lost, long ago memory, he began to sing:
Once upon a time there was a tavern
Where we used to raise a glass or two
Remember how we laughed away the hours
And think of all the great things we would do
Those were the days my friend
We thought they'd never end
We'd sing and dance forever and a day
We'd live the life we choose
We'd fight and never lose
For we were young and sure to have our wayâŠ
She joined him, her melody growing tight, and higher-pitched as she tried to hold back tears, âLa la la la la la⊠la la la la la la⊠la la la la la la la la la laâŠYou do remember!â
âIâm trying. But it all seems so distant. The children have all grown and gone their separate ways. I canât remember the last Christmas we shared let alone the first, or even the last time we danced⊠I want to, I do. But itâs like a dream of a memory that someone else once told me a story about. None of it seems real anymore.â
âOh, my friend we're older but no wiser. For in our hearts the dreams are still the sameâŠâ she whispered at him, wishing she could reach out in the darkness and hold his hand. Wishing he could just hold her, but there was too much space between them and despite the passage of time, the rules had never changed.
âShhhhhh! I think I hear someone coming!â His urgency broke the spell of her reverie instantly.
âCould it be? Maybe weâll, maybe itâs, maybeâŠâ her voice, no longer dreamy, grew loud with sudden hope.
âQuiet!â he hissed.
They heard someone enter the room and the opening and closing of different drawers and doors. It sounded as though someone was searching for something and both their hopes grew. It could happen this time, this could be it⊠and then their whole world shifted. It felt like a massive wave yanking them through time and space. Sudden and overwhelming bright light as a child, now no longer a child, pulled the bruised and battered jewelry box sheâd received for Christmas so many years ago out from under the bed, placed it on the comforter, and opened the lid.
Like that very first time, when the music began, the ballerina simply had to dance. She was compelled to twirl as each soft note was plucked by the steel comb running over the teeth of the music box drum. But unlike that first time, the years had worn down the little metal nubs. The notes were no longer in tune and some did not play at all, creating an odd and uneven melody that was almost unrecognizable as what it had once been. Also, unlike that first time, no one was watching. There were no twinkling lights, and she was no longer the most beautiful girl in the room. The tulle of her skirt was torn, tattered, and no longer sprinkled with sequins. The tiny spring beneath her platform was rusted and bent so that she spun her circle in a slightly off-kilter fashion. The color on her lips and cheeks had long since faded away, and the crystal in her tiara was missing - leaving a small hole filled with flaking, aged, yellow glue.
But, like every single time since the beginning, before she completed her first turn, she was in his arms. And he was still the first most perfect man she had ever seen or danced with. The brown of his eyes had completely disappeared, and a hairline fracture ran down the length of his right cheek. Flecks of paint had escaped the black of his tuxedo and the red bow tie had faded to a dull orange-ish shade. âThose were the days my friend,â they hummed together, âwe thought theyâd never endâŠâ
No longer a fairytale prince and she no longer a fairytale princess, together they danced, until the child, no longer a child, found what she was looking for and closed the lid on the jewelry box once again.