While the rest of the crew was inside the Jacksonville stadium, Bonnie and Will stayed behind to watch the UGA/FL game with me at the tailgate. It had been the day of days: the weather was warm and sunny, friends from both past and present co-mingled seamlessly and there was an endless supply of shade, food and beverage. It was the kind of day that fades around the edges like an old photograph. The details have been creased but the general feeling lasts forever.
We lost. Will dug his toe in the ground and drug it in the dirt. Bonnie leaned her head against the back of her Georgia camping chair. The sun had set and we pulled the tent down in darkness. It appears the only thing we forgot was light. No one had made it back from the stadium yet, and we already emulated their attitudes. We had seen our team lose in overtime on a flat screen set up in the back of a 4Runner; it's another thing to witness a loss in person.
I turned the TV off. "You know what we need?" I called back to Bonnie, "A dance party." The iPod with the party mix that had worked so well before the game was turned back on. Coincidentally, Taio Cruz's "Break Your Heart" began. Our hearts were broken, but our spirit was not crushed.
Bonnie jumped up from the chair and began singing and dancing. It was our ode to the Bulldog Nation: "If you fall for me, I'm only gonna tear you apart/ Told you from the start/ I'm going to break break your break break your heart." I grabbed my cup of hunch punch and took a long swig. And then I danced. I couldn't remember the last time I truly, uninhibitedly danced.
Song after song our boots pounded the sandy dirt as we bounced and swayed and flung our arms to the sky. We danced because we were sad, as if it was the most natural thing to do.
People began filing in from the game; most were pleased to see a couple of girls in red and black singing and laughing. Our friends quietly settled in the empty camping chairs with no movement towards anything but sleep. The dance party had ended.
But not in my heart.
