The Secret of Happiness – Finding Each Other

I wasn’t looking for love. Not then.

I signed up for justfories.com out of sheer curiosity — more from a need for conversation than a desire to fall in love. After fifty, life slows down in such a way that loneliness is no longer stormy — it's quiet, like the absence of a melody you don’t even notice until it starts playing.

Ethan messaged me a few days later. His message wasn’t cliché. It didn’t start with compliments or end with a question mark. It simply said:

- I’ve always thought that the dance of life feels lighter in a duo. What do you think, Ava?

He intrigued me. I replied. And that’s how it began — words slowly falling into rhythm with our evenings. We wrote for a long time, calmly, without pressure. Sometimes with a joke, more often with tenderness for the everyday.

Then one evening, Ethan asked:

- Have you ever danced the tango?

I laughed. Tango was something for the bold. Me? I was more of the quiet-walks-and-books-with-tea type.

But Ethan had a way of speaking about the seemingly impossible that made me want to try.

- Maybe it’s not about perfection. - he said. - Maybe it’s just about feeling that we’re still in motion. That we can still laugh at our own steps.

I agreed.

The classes were held in a small studio at the back of a dance school, with a wooden floor and mirrors that a little too honestly reflected our tiredness — but also our smiles. On the first lesson, I tripped twice, and Ethan bumped into the instructor once. But we laughed — openly, until tears ran down our faces.

Tango taught us more than just steps. It taught us to look at each other with attention. To hold each other with respect. And not to rush when there’s no need.

Classes became our ritual. Afterwards, we’d go for hot chocolate or a glass of wine at a nearby café. We talked. Sometimes we were quiet — and that was enough too.

One evening, after a few weeks of dancing together, Ethan paused while we buttoned up our coats.

- You know, Ava… - he began softly, - …I wasn’t looking for a perfect dance partner. I was looking for someone who’d help me feel like life has rhythm again. You are my music.

I looked at him. I felt something soften inside me.

It wasn’t the excitement I remembered from my youth. It was something deeper. Tenderness. Comfort. And the joy of being myself — with him.

Now, when we come home from our classes, we don’t talk about “what’s next.” We simply are.

Sometimes we dance at home — in the kitchen, to an old Astor Piazzolla record, with mugs of tea on the table. Our steps still aren’t perfect, but our presence is.

And if someone asks me today about the secret of happiness, the answer is simple:

It’s not about finding someone perfect.

It’s about finding someone with whom you can dance at your own pace — no pressure, no masks — and feel good just as you are.