Dance for me my Darling, Dance!
I once heard a story about a woman who went out to meet her boyfriend on certain nights of the week, and on those nights they would go dancing. The problem was she could never be sure of exactly how he looked, she remembered him in fragments but could never visualise him whole. So every night she went out she would always dance with men who reminded her of him in some way. The likeness didn't have to be very much, perhaps the curve of his chin, the cut or colour of his hair, the type of shoe or the way he moved, perhaps an ear lobe.
She danced with the stranger until her boyfriend came to pick her up. When he appeared, she always recognised him immediately and always fell in love with him all over again.
She was perfectly happy, as were the men she danced with (at least for the duration of the dance). Her boyfriend, on the other hand became increasingly unhappy and he decided to leave her, which he did one day without telling her.
For some time he stayed away from her, but he was still unhappy and unhappiness began to change him.
Gradually his face became morose and sad. Imperceptibly the shape of his body changed as he aged and put on weight.
Inexplicably, though inevitably, he was drawn back to the woman, his former girlfriend, and the place where they had always met.
And every night he watched her dancing with a succession of strange men, and all the time she seemed to be waiting for someone which he desperately hoped would be him. At the end of every night he wished her goodnight and every night she remarked to him how he vaguely reminded her of himself and how they should dance sometime,
and he always agreed,
but never did.