Last Dance (bp coyle)

After Lizzie passed I found it difficult to get out of the house.
People were nice, they invited me to things, made an effort. But it was only then that I noticed how all of my social events had been with her friends, her family. I had gone along for her sake. Smiled at the jokes, tried to be pleasant.
It is not easy being single and surrounded by couples. It makes you realise what you are missing. Not that I want to find another partner, not at all. You make everyone feel awkward.
Soon single women began to appear at these gatherings. A friend of someone. We were always seated beside together. It was tiresome.
I stopped accepting invitations, stopped answering the phone. Eventually the phone stopped ringing. That suited me fine.
Then, a couple of weeks ago, my daughter in law suggested, insisted, that she take me dancing. The church runs a weekly event on Wednesdays. Something to keep the old folk active.
I had no choice, I had to go. Lizzie would have laughed. I am a terrible dancer. No rhythm at all.
And there was only ever one girl I wanted to dance with.

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