The darkness captures me and takes me hostage. I scream, thrashing my arms as its tentacles drag me into its belly. Dread chills the blood in my veins.  

   A tunnel of light pokes through the black blanket that covets my sight and melts off my skin. The light. If I crawl towards it, I would be able to save myself. Blobs clutch at my body as I drag myself forward. A little more—a little—

   My eyes prickle at the sensation of the light embracing me. A golden-laced ballroom reveals itself. Peach-cream drapes encircle the room. There is no door, and there are no windows. A twinkling chandelier hangs from above, illuminating the room. Sparkles dance in the air, falling from the ceiling like rain. My heart skips in rhythm, as if already playing a song of its own.  

 

   “What is this place?” I whisper, clutching my arms, my voice bare and almost inaudible. Something taps my shoulder and I turn around and gasp.

   There stands a man, in a navy-blue button-up suit with polished raven-black shoes. At least, I believe him to be a man. A solid black mask, carved out of stone, exists where his face should be.

   For some reason, I am not afraid. Warmth spreads through my chest. He holds out a gloved hand to me; I stare at it, uncomprehending. Does he want to help me up?

   His hand remains in mid-air until I slip mine into it. My breath catches in my throat as his free hand slips around my waist, and I blink at him.

   “Do you want to dance? But there’s no music.”

   As if on cue, the sounds of violins and pianos flow into the air. I wrap my arms around his neck, and we begin to move. With each step, we take my heart is lifted higher and higher. Emotions swell in my chest. Without knowing him, without even the existence of his face, I know what I feel for him. Nothing matters now that I am near him.

   It’s love.

   Without warning this love strikes me, in body and mind, to the core. But I do not mind. I have entered a sweet heaven and do not want to leave. It is absurd to fall in love with a man without a face, maybe even no name, but I have. I want to utter my feelings, to tell him how I feel. But will I even get a response?

   We stop. His face pauses as though staring at me.

   As if he understands.

   “Can you understand me?” I ask. Of course I am met with dead silence. But then he squeezes my hand, and I smile. “I wish you had a face,” I whisper. “I also wish you had a name. It would make things so much easier.” He lets our hands fall to the side, so I grab his hand quickly and squeeze it slowly. “It doesn’t make this any less real. Love doesn’t need a name or a face.”

   He squeezes my hand again, and we lean in as though to kiss, and—

The darkness kisses my sight once again. My heart shatters.

My love. My sweet love, gone.

No. He wasn’t gone.

He would never be gone.

We would dance together again.

Love would be our eternal music.