But whatever. It looks like crap, but it's what they wanted me to do. Artistic license thrown out the window and I have something that meets the requirements. Fine.
Tomorrow is our last Diamond Scholars Day for a very long time. I'm nervous. I'm not quite sure I have enough to talk about. I have a phrase. I have another dancer. She has a phrase. We've kind of put them together and so far, it's beautiful, but it's not complete. I don't have music. I don't have a video. I still have hopes and dreams and ideas. I have a show to put together. This is getting overwhelming.
Deep breaths.
Let me lay out the scene for you. If you were to open the door to my house right now, you would be greeted by the dark, and if you could peer into that dark, you would find a pair of sneakers in the middle of the floor. Behind them, you would see the light from a laptop illuminating my face as I lay behind it typing. Ya, I'm laying on the floor. My purse is on the table, half unpacked, another pair of shoes beneath it. One light from the stove in the kitchen is on, only because I neglected to turn it off. Were you to travel upstairs, you would find the third bedroom, with a picture of a famous MMA fighter guarding its door, still empty. Still packed. Still undecided. Then, my room to the right, with pointe shoes on the door, still recovering from the other night. I haven't gained control of my life in the last few days. It's been too nonstop, and I think part of me wants the proof that Tuesday was real. I need to know that he was here, and the small changes he made to the space need to remain. I need to remember to figure out what happens next in this whirlwind adventure I've been gliding through.
And then there's the part of me that's just screaming, "Seriously? You're that dumb? Oh, okay, great. What now idiot?" Maybe straightening my stuff will help me straighten my life. Somehow, I doubt it.
But, answering the questions I've been having, and giving me the direction I needed someone to just hand me so I could come to the conclusion I knew was going to be inevitable, no matter what, Tuesday was great. Another chance when I could have shut down. I could have been the person I've been wrestling to get away from, and I wasn't. I was me. I talked way too much. I laughed way too much. I told way too many secrets. I put everything out there. I was far too honest. I said a lot of really stupid stuff, and ultimately regretted some of it, especially how he walked out the door because of what I said, but I was me. And it was wonderful. And so entirely unexpected. I think at least half the reason I was as open as I was can be traced back to the fact that I had no time to prepare myself for what was happening (hello real life improvisation exercise). I didn't have time to come up with my plan and to push him away. Ya, hints were dropped, but I didn't believe them initially. And I was relaxed the entire night. No tension in my body, not until I realized that I'd potentially made a humungous mess. Once he'd gone, I realized what I'd done, but even more so what I hadn't done. I hadn't given us a chance to fess up. And why shouldn't we? It's my life. It's his life. That's it. I'll talk to the necessary people involved, and otherwise, stay out of it. The only thing making it a mess is what everyone will have to say, and I'm so over caring. I have every right to do what I want and not to feel like I need to hide it. Done.
Ha...if only it was that simple...
Okay, time to figure out what I'm going to say to a room full of people tomorrow about what I've been doing with this project. "Hi, my name's Cassandra. I live and I dance and I let people watch me do these things." Think that will cut it?
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