Just Dance

Everyone copes with stress and anxiety in different ways. Some need to surround themselves with friends to ease their pain while others like to be alone. Many find things to keep them busy and others prefer to do absolutely nothing. Me, whenever I'm feeling down or stressed, I love to dance. There's something about dancing that's makes me feel better, takes my mind off of things, and so yeah, that's all I wanna do is dance.

Early in the morning of Christmas Eve, I received a "Dear John" email. For a little less than two months I had been dating someone new and I was feeling happier than I'd felt in a long, long time. Unfortunately, all along there'd been problems that would fester within him and eventually these issues led him to his decision. He felt he needed some time to be alone. I completely understand his conclusion, but at the same time I can't help but feel an overwhelming sense of loss at the same time. During the time we were together, I was beginning to believe that he'd be the one.

Needless to say, I've been down in the dumps for the past week now, a vacation week from school. That in itself is a bad situation, for I've had nothing but time to think and wallow in my sorrows. For me, the best thing about vacations is the ability to sleep in, and I don't often get the opportunity to sleep late. So for me the best part of the timing of this breakup is the fact that I can do my best to cope with my sorrows by dancing.

Dancing has always been my thing. Ever since I discovered Diana Ross way back in the early eighties, I hung up my KISS-loving, head-banging ways and began to dance. At the time, "Upside Down" was a big hit and I played the "Diana" cassette over and over again, dancing up a storm for hours in my room.

Once I reached the drinking age, I began going to clubs, where I could show off my fine tuned prowess on the dance floor. In my prime, I was going clubbing at least five nights a week, and not to drink or meet people, but to dance. I remember once dancing with my friend Thea for five hours straight. I even got to go to that most famous of nightclubs, Studio 54, a few times. Though it was the early 80's, the waning days of the club's existence, the experience was still one that I'll never forget. The dance floor was a sea of people, as far as the eye could see, all letting loose and having fun. A huge yellow heart swung back and forth like a pendulum over the dance floor, and Prince was singing about doves crying from a bathtub on the gigantic screen on the far wall. We danced until the wee hours of the morning, and I was loving every minute of it.

Of course, the dancing didn't stop when I became domesticated. During my relationship, my ex and I would still go clubbing on occasion, but most of my dancing was done at home. Dancing is great exercise, and I can surely credit dancing for the shape I'm in today. Besides, I'd much rather be up and around dancing than sitting in front of the TV (which was probably one of the reasons for my breakup).

Once I became single again, I returned to the clubs, though they weren't what they used to be. Crowds are very fickle here on Long Island. A good song will come on and people will dance, but if the next song doesn't tickle the crowd's fancy, the dance floor empties. It can be very intimidating to be alone on the dance floor with everyone else standing around and watching, so recently I began venturing back into New York City, the center of it all. The city contains many dance clubs, any of which is packed with people any given night of the week. Splash, probably one of the best known gay clubs in the city, became my new Saturday night hangout. At Splash, I get to relive those memories of dancing all night and forgetting all my troubles.

With all those years of practice, I can say with certainty that I'm a really good dancer. I've never been the kind of guy to buy someone a drink at the bar or to just walk up to someone and start talking to them. My dancing has always been the catalyst for meeting people. On my birthday in 2008, Beyonce's "All the Single Ladies" provided the catalyst for making some very good dancing buddies. Dancing is also how I met him.

This past Halloween weekend I went to Splash to celebrate a new car. The music was great and in no time I was getting my groove on the dance floor. Within minutes, a young black woman who'd been dancing nearby sidled up to me and together we boogeyed like there was no tomorrow. At one point I was even holding her up off the ground and swinging her around like we were the favored contestants on "Dancing with the Stars." All the while we were dancing, he was standing on the sidelines watching. The song soon changed, she went back to her dancing partner, and in a flash, there he was, right in front of me, looking to dance.

So here I am, two months later, alone and depressed. With the lack of any ability to sleep, I've been taking myself to the clubs every night this week. If I stay home, all I have is time to think, which is exactly what I don't need to do. So I hop into my car, drive into the city and I dance. I dance to remember the good times and I dance to forget. It is my therapy.