Dreams and Dances

I only ever met you once, perhaps only in some night time vision, but that one time was enough. You loved me, and that meant everything. You had a choice follow all the rest to wherever they were going, or do what you wanted to do, and you chose the latter; you chose to dance with me in the carpark. In some euphoric high we danced to a music no one else could hear, and you loved me and I loved you, and nothing else mattered.

And even if others all draped themselves over you, like some sea creatures with powerful suction, I would know that they don't matter, that it is me you will come back to and show them all that you aren't available. You would have the choice of them, but you would pick me. And we would go back into the carpark and dance the night away to music only we can hear. The prospect is so exciting.

Are you real? I have no idea. If we met would I recognise you? Would you know me? I fear that it is not likely. We will probably walk past one another, completely oblivious. But maybe, if luck would have it, you would notice me, I would notice you, and we would somehow progress past a quick glance to conversation. From there, well, who knows?