I feel most happy when I am dancing.

In any situation, time or place, there is nothing that makes me more comfortable than throwing on a record at full volume and letting out every emotion. Humming and singing, the lyrics naturally flow out of my lips. I move my hips to the rhythm, toss my hair, and move my shoulders in a backward motion. I feel true happiness. I feel home.

No one is watching. Just me and the music. I close my eyes and drift. My mind is left clear and worry-free. It is an escape from reality, an escape from the troubles and pains of yesterday.

I ramble through drawers finding the perfect red-brown shade of lipstick, applying it to the center of my lips and smudging it outward. Effortless, I imagine. Letting my hair loose, I feel free.

While swaying my hips I move to my closet, where I throw together every wild print and color I can find. Each piece of clothing adds to my mood as I toss on and off the layers.

I feel like sunshine. It is as if I’ve been laying underneath the sun’s rays on a clear and easy Sunday afternoon. The feeling of a weight lifting off my chest.

In between moving across the room, I am often stopped, feeling called by a lyric or a beat, forcing my hands in the air and my hips to sway. I throw scarves in my hair and become hypnotized by the spinning vinyl.

I feel a bit of panic and my heart drops as I know the end is coming. It is an all too familiar record. As the needle begins to lift, I lean over.

Flip.

The excitement takes over as I listen and wait for it to begin again.

Side B.