The love has run out for me
It's the first week back from Spring Break and yet it doesn't feel like I have broken my routine at all. We have only completed a week and it feels like two. My reviews went well and what it boils down to is I need to not be as precise and clean as I am. I need to be messy and I need to teeter on the edge of success and failure. Risks need to be taken and the streak of perfection will be speckled with splashes of my falls and try agains. Amazing how parallel my dancing life runs with the rest. No joke when they say that your artistry is a reflection of yourself.
Spring Break was a lovely retreat. I spent three days at the lake and falls which was a much needed connection with nature. It was nice to look out and remember there is so much more to it that what we walk on. I was able to get close enough to the falls to feel the mist leaving me to sparkle with the traces of it's mist kiss. My dog enjoyed these scenic beauties as well. I haven't seen him that perky in a while. Spring Break also brought a much needed visit with my lovely Phoebe bird. She listened to my worries and confusion. She offered support when I vented about how sick I am of people getting scared and investing their hearts into something they know will never work. Now that I am done hesitating and holding back, I really wonder what, even now when I am willing to give my all, is wrong with me and if I will ever be enough. The bird assured me that there was nothing wrong or ridiculous about my reactions or feelings. She told me that there really wasn't anything for me to figure out. Her words brought comfort that I needed so direly they made me feel whole again. We laughed, we exchanged knowing glances, and we talked about the brightest futures we know we will have.
Being back reminds me of how ready I am to be out of school. It's not school itself but the people who attend. I grew out of college parties a long time ago.... Life as a young adult is fresh and strong and I hate that I am spending the first part of it with people who think picking fights, getting drunk, and to stop dreaming is growing up. As cliche' as it may sound I long to work under contract and have the job of getting up in the morning to put on pointe shoes and learn a variation. Nothing could be more beautiful in all sincerety. I want to dance with people who feel the same and put on cocktail dresses and go to chic get togethers with them where a drink is more of an accessory than a means to alter your mental state.I want to be part of something that isn't only going to give me half. I need to be part of something that brings comfort and not worries; that is maturely present in the moment ready to give what I am going to take.
I made it a week, and was happy and chipper each of those days. I had a taste of who I really am and felt beauty within. I was reminded that I do have something to offer and that I am not just an empty body. My friends love me and are even proud of me and for that week, I didn't doubt it anymore. Freedom was sitting in my living room spreading it frivolous spores throughout the air I breath. Then, laying in the dark last night, it was all gone. I was numb and unable to sleep. The words and actions that used to comfort me bounced right off me and all I wanted to do was leave and stay all at the same time. I put flowers in my hair this morning hoping it would be a reminder to my soul of how to skip. I am trembling back to life slowly but tonight brings the real challenge. Will I be able to brush it off as nothing, or accept the ending fate before it even begins?