Do you recall the evening we broke through? We’d worked together for weeks and weeks, fighting the awkwardness of what we were trying. Our feet behaved like three-year olds, intent on setting their own rules. You seemed comfortable first, a few days before I outran my fear of the steps and just let my body take charge. Even past those barricades, we neither one danced that well alone, or with another partner. But together. Oh, cara mia. Together.