Rhythm.

--Slow dances.

I prefer slow dances to fast ones because all you really need is someone's arms to be enclosed in, and for your steps to match those of that someone you're with.

I prefer slow dances to fast ones because you don't need any music to get the rhythm right.

I prefer slow dances to fast ones because you can lean in closer to hear the steady heartbeat of your partner. 

I prefer slow dances to fast ones because it's the person you dance with that's all that really matters.

My first slow dance wasn't in a fancy party, a dinner, or even a ball. It was on a hot noontime lunch break in front of the secluded locker area. I was just hugging a friend of mine--I, was a sophomore then, he, a junior--and then, he suddenly grabbed my hands and put them around his neck, and led me in this swaying sort of rhythm. He was humming, and I was asking him what he was doing, and he finally let go when his little humming-song was over. It was spontaneous; it was sweet, but it wasn't my favorite slow dance.

My second slow dance was in a fancy party, I guess. Sophomore night. I was in the dance floor with a couple of female friends of mine, then, a friend of mine approached me, and asked me to dance. I swayed in all the wrong places, and laughed awkwardly in the beginning, but we shrugged it off. It was short; it was funny; it was friendly, but it wasn't my favorite slow dance.

My third slow dance was during prom night, and that dance was shared with my best friend. He doesn't like to dance; and I was scared I wouldn't be good enough to lead him--but my fears outweighed the desire to give my best friend a good night. I honestly can't say I remember what song we first danced to, or where we were on the dance floor, or for how long we ended up dancing--but I do remember how I liked to encircle my arms around his neck, and how I liked the feel of his arms around my waist and how comfortable I was in that position. And of how much I hoped he was comfortable, too.

He was probably my fourth slow dance, and my fifth slow dance, and probably most of my slow dances for the rest of the night--he was also my last. I still can't remember much of the songs we danced to, or in what sequence of things we did that night, but I do remember how things felt right, somehow, no matter that we weren't burning fire on the dance floor.

And this is why I like--