I had that ridiculous hairstyle with the side-swept bangs. I was frighteningly skinny and surrounded by amazing things in my life. I danced thirty hours a week. Well, we danced thirty hours a week. We laughed thirty hours a week, mostly about insignificant but inexplicably funny details. Nothing could go wrong with our dreamy lives.
We crossed the Atlantic… we told each other every secret, we cried. We cried some more. We got drunk once or twice, but it didn’t really matter because at the end of the day we were the happiest of all. Even our hangovers were worthy ones. We travelled as far as our feet could take us to dance.
We got lost and found ourselves so many times. There was not a single flaw in our bond, not a single flaw in the way we were. Everybody looked at us. We didn’t care about the attention or the mean comments though; we just wanted to keep laughing, to keep dancing for as long as we could keep it together. Nobody ever talked about the end. For all we cared, everything could end the next day… we had each other, we had our dance shoes. That was more than we needed, more than we ever asked for. We had it all.
We held countless sleepovers. We grabbed each other tightly through horror movies we rented on purpose, so that one could never let go. We held each other even closer through thin than through thick. We laughed until we cried. We cried until we fell asleep.
We put makeup on, we got sick and danced with a fever, we lost weight, we gained weight. We broke up with our boyfriends, and we got new ones. But who cared about that, if the minute we walked into the studio we knew everything was going to be fine. Even when it wasn’t fine, the studio shed a different light on things. Even the worries and the fears seemed much more worthy if they happened there. Nothing could destroy the walls we’d built. We sewed dozens of pointe shoes and costumes late at night while the rest of the people were sleeping. We, on the other hand, went to sleep only to rest our bodies so that next day they could be the instrument of our dream making. There wasn’t a feeling that compared to the one of a drained body, but an appeased soul. We didn’t regret a second. That’s the reason we woke up every morning, the reason we did everything else during the day, the reason we lived through hard times, and we didn’t need anything else. It was worth it all.
We rehearsed so much our feet could no longer bear it, but our hearts were just warming up. When the curtain came up we held each other, and for brief seconds we could sense the meaning of life, the meaning of love, the meaning of happiness, the meaning of surrendering and the meaning of sacrifice, and of all those things people write novels about. Those things you want to believe are real. We felt them, we grasped them. It was a prophetic instance. All of our histories were merged into one sublime moment of artistic creation.
We were so full of something, of some weird magic substance. To put it in earthly words, we were full of humanity and full of hope; and we held onto that for as long as we could. But then everything became too real. It was ending. Where did time go? Did we miss it? Did we not say how much we loved each other when we had the chance? Where are all those memories going to be kept? But most importantly… will it ever be the same again? Deep inside we all knew the answers to those questions. We didn’t need to say much more afterwards. We nervously laughed a little longer. We agreed to see each other often. But we knew it was over. We cried for what we thought was the last time. We didn’t say goodbye, because how could we? It didn’t seem right to speak the words, even if we all thought them. It was then that we secretly remembered an oldie song we loved… “Let’s dance in style, let’s dance for a while; heaven can wait, we’re only watching the skies”. We wanted heaven to wait. We had our very own amazing place on earth and we wanted to stay there. It was what we called home, and we were letting go of it.
I guess we then found new homes, but we were lucky enough to take part in something bigger than ourselves. And I’m certain that everything else stands weak aside it.