I read about how you play, have fun, run and sing... chat with you, sitting at my computer in the dark... and all the time, I'm thinking,

"At least you can dance."

No, you protest, I can't dance, I've tried. I simply shake my head and type,

"At least you can dance..."

I had dreams of dancing on the stage, exhausted and happy. I had dreams... and now all I can think is...

"At least they can dance."

Oh, yes, it was an accident... the railing was weakened, the stairs were steep, I leaned too far... I look at you all with envy...

"At least you can dance."

It broke, I fell, my foot got caught. The next months in the hospital, finally let out, alive, but not...

"At least you can dance."

In a wheelchair for the rest of my life. Never to dance, never even to walk. You don't know what you're talking about -

"At least you can dance."

Yeah... I had dreams... but they're impossible now. Flights of fancy. You look at my serious nature, shake your heads, type to me to cheer up... bitterly, I type back,

"At least you can DANCE!"

I don't even have the mobility to take my life. Poor me. Lifeless, dreamless, hopeless me. Doomed to live without a chance of recovery.

And all the while, as I dream emptily, type wordlessly, I think...

"At least you can live."