Brushing my teeth,
thinking about it all,
then starting to bawl.
That is my life.
Yes, I miss it.
Ballet, I mean.
It's been about five weeks and I've said it feels good to have the extra time but I'm just now noticing no, it isn't.
I miss it so much that I cry,
and maybe I don't want to be told I don't care enough anymore.
If I didn't care, don't you think I'd be there instead of here?
Sorry, I was going to not be vague here, but it's hard.
It's almost one in the morning and tomorrow's a school night,
and it's been a fine day,
but it hasn't been a fine week
and it hasn't been a fine five weeks
and I'm just crying because of it.
I'm just crying.
I'm crying because he still cares but we can't anymore,
we just can't. We can't.
We haven't let go but we have to, we have to.
I've held on so long,
but that's because he cares and he cares so much
and I need someone to care about me
and I need to not need someone to care about me
but I don't know how
and I'm just crying. I'm just crying.
I just want to go back to Ballet.
I want to go back to when I first got my pointe shoes
and I didn't know what it was like to be loved
and what it was like to have to learn to let go
and it's a good thing I can type without looking
because I can't even see the screen anymore
I'm a ballerina, really, please, aren't I?
love always, laura elizabeth