Romantic men rock, or tango

Hello www, Lord continue to bless and guide each one of us. Heavenly Father, as Easter draws near, help us to stay focused on our lenten sacrifice, seeing You in all things and people around us. Amen. I was at a coffee shop last night where people were tango dancing. COOL! I know a coffee shop may not seem like the ideal place for tango dancing, but once I settled in a comfy chair, and began watching the couples, it had a wonderful I'm-at-home-with-a-group-of-close-friends feeling. I was asked to dance, and since I have no experience tango dancing, I took the invitation. My partners were young, handsome men. One man had on a tie and looked ready for church. His reverence for the dance was intoxicating. As he held me close and gently but firmly guided me around the dance floor I asked him where he learned to dance, "Argentina. I lived there for nine months." My mind immediately flooded with images of him dancing with Argentinian beauties; women with passion and long, dark tresses. My reflection continued: black and white images of a man sitting on an untidy bed, tie undone, head in hands, and in the background a woman's silouhette standing in the doorway in a slinky black dress... Maybe the guy dancing with me had experienced incredible heartache, as only good romances can give, and was here, in this coffee shop, back in the USA, trying to recapture some of the fable he felt with her, dancing in Argentina before he left, before whatever it was that tore them asunder happened. Maybe he wanted only good memories to remain: how they fed each other one starry night, after having cooked a delicious meal together and sipped wine on the veranda of his run-down apartment. He wanted to dance away the pain of his loss. And maybe he just went to the coffee shop to tango. Gaaaaaaaaaaaaahd bless ya!