He was a mystery to me. Always quiet, eyes fleeting, to himself. He was usually very distant, so I never bothered talking to him. He didn't talk much, so I just assumed he was too shy to strike up a conversation with. Although I didn't really know him well, however, I found my own eyes flitting towards him involuntarily, searching his face for any sign of something he might want to say.
When he dances, something inside of him that's been dying to come out floats to the surface, is visible with every beautiful step. He doesn't have to worry about the words he's trying to say, or whether or not he stutters; every word rolls fluidly through his movement, his body communicating everything he's been so reluctant to say. Every move is so sure, and his touch is confident, nothing like the hesitant hands that occasionally catch mine.
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