It was there this morning.
You know it.
That need to dance. To get lost in repetitive counts of eight and the familiar steps. To plié, tendu, glissé, sauté… hell, even to pirouette.
I wonder… I closed a chapter last night.
Whichever way we look at it, it was back. I’m tentatively googling new classes, new starts, new chances. I know what I want, what I need from going back to ballet. It’s time to draw a line under last year, take what I learned and use it to move on.
If. Little word, huge connotations.
It’s the dream afraid of waking that never takes the chance…