Love Gone Nothing Personal

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The love dance. A myth. Synchronized swimming? The Tango? Stepping?

Behind closed doors. Under the cover of darkness. All languages have expressions about what we do in private, especially two people who have goose pimples every time they look each other. It can happen anywhere, even at work. It’s not advisable, but we still do it.

The final destination for messages from the eyes is physical contact. The bedroom is usually the trampoline or figure skating rink. That is nature. There’s nothing we can do about that. It takes two to tango and it  becomes our business when the tango stops and one partner tells us about it.

There is no free tango, should be the new proverb. Promises are made during the tango and they usually have a time line. They will be fulfilled in two months’ or a year’s time or when the kids are grown up. Time passes and there is no indication that they will be kept. Impatience seeps in. The tango is affected. Two people step on each other’s toes literally. They cannot synchronize dance steps anymore.

The ideal solution is to walk away to preserve the two thirds self dignity left. Besides, we remember people who left without saying goodbye and spend a lifetime wondering what happened to her.

It’s easier said and done when two people work together. Solution? They should sign a pre-tango: Tango Only. No Promises.

By: Nonqaba waka Msimang.

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