Why I'd Rather...Still Dance With Mattresses.

May 9, 2009

I wish I could return to the days of dancing with mattresses.
You may wonder what exactly that entails, so let me explain:
We danced with mattresses. Literally.
They were pretty small, and rather light. Light enough to dance with, but big enough to become a prince charming.
So one day as a seventh grader, our little group of friends decided that's what we'd do. Dance with a mattress.
We then named them after our favorite member in Dream Street, and we'd begin to dance the night away as we imagined our very own fairy tales.
Fairy tales that never went wrong.
"He'd" be handsome, he'd be charming - he'd be madly in love, madly in love with only us...there was never another "her..."
He would tell us we were gorgeous, that we were brilliant and perfect.
We never heard the words, "Lets take a break," or, "I don't see this going anywhere..."
Never, "There's something I need to tell you," or "I met someone else..."
What we had with these mattresses was love.
Long lasting love.
(According to a twelve year old)
And all we had to do was get out those mattresses and dance the night away...

Unfortunately, (and let me stress: unfortunately) I was twelve at the time, and now I'm 20. I can't, for the life of me, somehow imagine a styrofoam mattress as a prince charming, and I'll be the first to admit, I have tried since then. But it doesn't work anymore, even though I wish it could. I can't turn off the lights and close my eyes and make believe.
It's growing up I tell you, and sometimes it's not as great as we once thought it would be.

The reason I am writing about this today, is because my one and only (and naturally, my most favorite) kid sister just broke up with her boyfriend last night, and since their "calling it quits" phone call, has been in a perpetual state of tears.
As she sits next to me explaining whats left of her broken heart, I try and find the right words to say. The right stories to relate. The right quotes. The right "break up" songs. The right way to comfort her...
And all I managed to come up with (despite the infinite amount of wisdom I've gained living 23 months longer than she) all came down to this: "I wish we could still dance with mattresses."

I know it sounds crazy.
I know it's probably even crazier to imagine.
But while those four mattresses swayed back and forth in the play room, and while those four brace faces began to be swept away while being in love with love...
It really was a lovely thing, to be in love with a mattress once upon a time.


Anonymous said...

I was told to come check your blog out, and this is incredible writing and insight and adorable thoughts. Although I am not a blogger myself, I must say that you tempt me to enter into the world of blogging.

Truly an adorable message.

Hope your sister is feeling better :)

Mandy said...

I'm sad she is sad :( But- but, I think that mattresses are sometimes way better than boys. And sometimes the idea of love is much better than love itself.

(ps - anonymous comments creep me out)

Sara said...

Mattresses, at least, would never pick fights/arguments with you! I especially love your previous post by the way :)

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