Waltz With Me
By MissyRATING: PG-13 (Some depressing images and adult themes)
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NOTES: Inspired by the Lisa Bigwood tune "Waltz With Me Joe".
CATEGORY: Monologue, songfic
FEEDBACK: PLEASE?!
SPOILLER/SUMMARY: It's Shirley's time to shine, however dimly, as she realizes the folly of her marriage to Walter.

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You think you know a guy when you marry him. And you also think it'll last forever. When I saw Walter, what I really saw was the answer to my prayers; gorgeous doctor, great smile, wanted kids, liked animals.

So I married him. Quickly. I wasn't getting any younger, and Carmine wasn't getting any closer to falling on his knees and begging me to marry him. And even Carmine wasn't Dr. Walter Meeny, the most perfect man in the free world. Before I knew it, I was pregnant; just as quickly, a foreign citizen. I left behind my closest friend, a man closer to me than my own mother, a boyfriend I had kept on a leash since high school. All for Dr. Walter Meeny, the love of my life.

We've moved countless times since then. Wherever the Army needed him, we went. We had four babies by the time he (HE, notice that) decided that the family needed to settle down. So he started a practice in the middle of the country. I got my split-level colonial, and he bought me a little collie. I couldn't call him Dave. That's our middle son's name.

This was my dream; my fantasy, for so many years.

I'm a fool.

Me, the careful dreamer; hadn't planned on the details. On a doctor's long hours. Being the sole parent at school recitals, piano lessons, and baseball games. Beautiful dinners that grow cold hours before his key turns in the lock. Cold touches and icy embraces.

Today I wonder where he is. We never speak to one another anymore. He could be at a late appointment, with friends at the bar. Anywhere. When I envisioned myself as Mrs. Doctor's Wife, I saw a man with common interests, values, sensibilities. Fantasized of full, pretty dresses, waltzes at country clubs. Perfection.

I learned too late that none of us are perfect. Neither is life.

You know, during the lean years we'd go out dancing every night. Suddenly, he doesn't want to be seen with his wife anymore.

But you look decent enough. Yeah, you'll do.

So dance with me. I'll just close my eyes and pretend you're a partner I had long ago, when my hopes were still idolatrous and sweet. At least the dancing won't be a dream.

Just don't look at my eyes. I don't want to get your hopes up.

I'll do my best not to look into yours. We'll get along fine; one hand on the waist and we're off.

Anyone can remember the steps. Feeling them's a different story.

Waltz With Me Joe,
While they close down this place
Waltz with me slow
Don't look at my Face
You must have known I'd dance with you.
It looks so easy when you know what to do.