Post Script.

"Oh, la mia sorellina, solo essere felice, con la fine di qualcosa e l'inizio di qualcosa di meglio."

["My little sister, just be happy, with the end of something comes the beginning of something better."]

Thanks bud.  It meant so much.

Now that that landmark's passed...

One year ago today...

The following poem was written earlier.
Before I got cheered up, obviously.

Nostalgia.

what wasn't felt at five months

comes back twice at a year.

a soul undeserving,

a tear too often cried

due to the ability of life that

changes faster than we know.

"it's all for the best"

Yes, God gets us through,

the suffering turns to achievement,

but not everyone forgets that

God sent it to us first.

-May 31, 2011

Of course, I was able to get over it.

It's been a year.

I know I'm over it.

I didn't spend all day thinking about it.

[neither did he, I'm sure.]

[I actually doubt he knows what today is.]

[but it's fine.]

I've made new friends,

I've moved on,

Life goes on.

I'm done with him,

because he is no improvement in life.
I don't need him.

Whether I have another summer romance this year

or not,

At least I know that I am independent enough

to not.

Thank you to everyone who has helped me.

I'm sorry to everyone who has helped me.

This summer will be different.

However...

I never got a hug today.

Which made me sad.

But I'm still independent.  No worries.

Love, Laura.



A watched window shows no friends.

It's funny because the word "cluck" looks like "duck", but that's the
sounds chickens make, not ducks.  It's very misleading.

...It's funny what a day alone can do to your mental health.

Later usually turns into never.  Proven.

Thanks, Kelsey, for saving the day at eight o'clock.

Love to her and others that I love,
Laura.

"Tell your new girl I say good luck."

His latest memoir, on the twenty-third--
"We had our first kiss (:"

If only I could warn her.

Maybe she'll have better luck,

hopefully he actually cares for her.

Hopefully she's the only one.

Will she end up with a broken heart?

After a year, he has a new lover.

After a year, I have happiness,

independence,

freedom, and a much better love-

not only for my surroundings

or all my friends

but for myself.

And that, Blaze

is something you never let me have.

And when she hurts like I did,

please tell her I am sorry

that no matter what I could say

she'd still love you anyway.

I do wish you two happiness, the happiness

we will never have

the happiness we fabricated

--Laura Elizabeth

Could Not Be More Excited.

Now, when did I deserve such good friends?

-miss kelsey, I just got your post-it note. You're so beautiful

and I am so much more blessed than you.

I did have a good day. (:

-dear sunshine, I could not be happier to be happy.

thank you for standing by me when I

most needed it.

-miss justyn, I love you.  Even though sometimes I feel

like I don't belong in the role of

one of your best friends.

-miss dani, we will get together soon. no matter

if you can or can't.

And many more who contribute to my over all contentment--

All my love, Laura.

Me last year is downright depressing.

Thank the heavens I have changed so much.

Sorry you all had to know me when that went down--

I am so happy to be where I am,

I am so happy to have regained friends I thought I lost,

I am so happy to have made such a great new friend,

I am so happy I have great plans tomorrow,

I am so happy that I dance,

I am so happy that I love,

I am so happy I'm alive.

So much love,
Laura.

Danser est Vivre.

You disrespect dance, you disrespect me.

Warning [may occur when you disrespect dance]: A sudden foot in the face.

Dance is what I live for.

It takes watching dance to remind me why I'm here.  It takes dancing to remind everyone else why I'm here.  I am not the best, but I am not the worst.

And someday I hope to inspire others like the dancers I've seen tonight-

SYTYCD, EVERYONE!! IT'S BACK!!

-to remember why they live too.

You can't describe that fierce passion you get, deep in your chest

where they tell you the heart is

when you dance.  You can't full explain

the love between those blessed people

that have dance in their lives, but let me try.

The connection between a dancer and dance is as indescribable as that of which a mother to a child.  It connects on so many levels; physical, of course, but emotional, spiritual, mental as well.  To dance, you must have soul, you must have spirit and so much heart.  Dancing is so much more than flailing limbs and muscule strength and the ability to remember a combination; it's connecting to something that not everyone can tap.  It's connecting to something otherworldly, and yet, it is contained deep within us.  One of the biggest differences between a dancer and someone moving in rhythm is that you have to love what you do.  If you dance, if you truly love it, it doesn't matter how long you've been dancing, or how flexible or skinny you are, you are a dancer.  Dancing takes incredible strength.  The strength to endure throughout intense physical pain, the strength to endure throughout intense emotional pain.  I can't tell you how often I've cried, either in class or at home, because I don't feel like I can do something, because someone else makes it look so easy.  But all dancers have felt that.  It's normal and natural and it's part of building us up to be the best dancers we can be.  I don't know how often I've endured small injuries-whether it be a torn off toenail or a twisted ankle-and had to keep going.  Because if you injure yourself before a performance, you still have to go on.  If you injure yourself on stage, you can't let it show.  You must keep smiling and finish the performance as though nothing happened.  In a sport game, if you get injured, you usually get a substitute; if anything, you get a few minutes to regain yourself and finish out the game.  But in dance, there is no time to let yourself be weak.

So to those who say dance isn't a sport, fine.  You're right.  Dance is much harder than a sport because not only does it include the physicality of sports, it adds in emotional.  It adds in art.  Dance is not just a sport, or an art, it is a beautiful mixture of both.  And you will not find anything better than the combination of those two bases.

Miss Dani:  We will be getting together soon.

Love, Laura.

P.S.  I'm not kidding about the foot in the face, people.  I don't care if you don't like dance; around me, you better at least respect it.

Being single doesn't mean you're weak, it means you're strong enough to wait for what you really deserve.

Yes, it's been over a week since I last posted.
Yes, it's because my netbook hasn't been working.
...get off my back.

Right now, I feel an overwhelming sensation to cry,

laugh, scream,

giggle, smile, love, kiss,

die,

and stretch.

I'm done with CRTs.  Tomorrow's my mini-musical.

[where did the time go?!]

All there is left of Junior High is:

Mini Musical

"Variety" Show

5K

LAGOON DAY

Yearbook Day

Five Days.  Do you know until what?

My Biggest Problem: Being Confident.

Do you know how long it's been since I was last held?  Not hugged by a friend, but held?  I don't need boys.  I am independent.  But it would be nice, sometimes.
Love, Laura.

Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead.

A sonnet for English [and now, I'm thinking in iambs]:

The Remnants of Romance

We saw, we met, we laughed, we sang along
with inhabitions keeping us in line
we got closer and we did nothing wrong
it wasn't long until I called him mine.
But through the smiles and all the gentle touch
a lover's quarrel, a heart being defied
Despite what he said, neither were enough
The honest truth: To both of us he lied.

Through tears with which our eyes would always fill,
one year has nearly come and gone again
apologize: Perhaps one day he will,
it took a long time for our hearts to mend.
Most of my naietivete is gone,
what, in his mind, could truly have gone on?

Yes, I realize it's kind of terrible.  At the same time, though... With nostalgia and all, it was good to let out.

Love, StarFish.

It's not who you are that holds you back, it's who you think you're not.

I talked to a self-proclaimed slut last night.

And he managed to cheer me up again.  Thank you.

But really... Who calls a girl he doesn't know "babe" the first time they talk?

Love, Laura.