To My Dear Hardwood Floor,

There has always been something about a well worn and used hardwood floor; the kind that gets smothered by the weight of a thousand stories. The dust and dirt and scuffs tell stories of long nights, the kind beginning with a casual two step and ending with a stranger being pulled closer than their partner ever meant to. It’s the place where my boots hit the ground in rhythm with the drums, some moving in perfect sync and others trying to look over their shoulder to watch the next step.

My floor has known the weight of tired bodies after a long week, the hesitant shuffle of someone gathering the courage to ask the pretty girl sitting alone for a dance, the quiet comfort of a chest to chest slow dance when words aren’t enough. You have been the setting for first kisses in the middle of a spinning turn, for whispered promises under neon lights, for goodbyes that hit harder than the final chords of a sad song. Through it all, no matter the emotion, my hardwood floor has caught me through it all.

You’ve had your share of being soaked in whiskey and beer. You have seen tempers flare, caught spilled tears and secrets, moment’s where the wrong song played at the wrong time, when two people stood inches apart- neither willing to walk away first. But, you’ve also held the reckless joy of hands clasped tight, of boots sliding easy across the wood, of laughter spilling between lyrics.

The true love of my life has truly healed a heart it didn’t break. It has healed me emotionally, and sent me on the adventures of a lifetime. No matter what has happened, you have been there to keep the music playing and my heart beating. You allow me to press my stories and emotions, anger and anguish and being alive, into the wood beneath me, allowing me to leave nothing behind but dust. You give me hope, allow me to leave footprints, but always promising that I can come back for one more song.

Love,

A girl head over heels to line dance