Friday, September 2, 2011

Para tí

Bet you thought I'd forgotten even the basics. It's okay...I wasn't sure I remembered them either. I guess I've read that note you left enough that I remember that one at least.

Last show tonight. Kind of disastrous. Music and lights were all kinds of off. I tried not to let it phase me though and only tried to support those it affected.

Right before we went on, I turned to Megan and told her that I had way too much going on in my head. "He isn't answering. It's been two years to the day. And I don't have my skirt." ...come to think of it, I still don't have that skirt. I have no idea where it went...Anyway, we went on stage and I talked about laughter and how I am so lucky to have so many people in my life who make me laugh. I talked about two years ago. The first time I saw you. Same day. Same space. Very different show. Very different audience. Very different me, and I need you to know that part. I need to tell you that. But I can't. So I'll tell everyone who is not you.

The piece went beautifully. Megan kicked me in the face and slapped me in the back, but it really was beautiful.

Then Michael's piece. I've continued to get amazing feedback on it. Megan talked about the length and the calm with which I entered the movement. "You don't do that, but somehow you are." She voiced that maybe it's my doorway into figuring myself out across the board. That's what I've been doing this summer. Spending time on myself and figuring out why I can't handle things, or why I'm handling them in a way I don't like and working on what I can do about that. Or at least, that's what she told me. "It's like, maybe you've already dealt with that, so then you get to his piece and you can let it go, because you already did it. It's behind you now."

I wrote your name on the floor. I have been. I especially enjoy dotting the "i" and crossing the "t". And then, I saw you tonight. I've been picturing you there, sometimes, but tonight was different. I actually saw you. There you were, smiling at me, the way you used to be. And I wasn't mad. I wasn't upset. It was just a nice memory. I nearly smiled back at you, but that's not the dance. And when I turned around, you were gone.

I tried to convince myself that the piece was about me, or him, or anyone else. But in reality, it's been about you, the whole time. Most of what I've done in the past two years has in some way been about you. And I'm okay saying that now.

I did it. I danced you out of me. I can let go.

Goodbye, mi amor

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