How Do You Breathe?

It's seven am. I've been off work since five am. I'm watching So You Think You Can Dance that I recorded. Drinking hard cider (which tastes much better then beer) and feeling slightly sad. I love this show. LOVE. It's much better then Dancing With The Stars. because this isn't just fading celebrities who need attention but actual real dancers who love what they do with so much passion that even my nondancing boyfriend loves it. So as a burned out dancer, I love it. But sometimes it makes me sad to watch it. Once upon a time I loved dancing. I devoted my life to it. Breathed it. But as Erin tells her little school children "life is hard" and mom and dad could no longer afford lessons and I went to work at the family store (really, we had a family store. How little house on the prairie is that? Turns out, not so much) So watching SYTYCD I can't help but wonder if I would have made it past auditions. If life had been slightly different would I be warming up backstage for some show at night instead of running on some treadmill every night just to get enough exercise so I can sleep at night? Some things you can't quit. I still dance in my kitchen while cooking. When I turn, I do so on my toes. If a boy spins me... I'll confess my love. I still look for a decent salsa club and I still think I can convince the boyfriend that ballroom lessons is what he really wants for christmas. I know dance is something I write about alot, mostly with regret, but I writing is theraputic and since I'm not likely to become a professional dancer at this age, I write. But I think we all have something that we are holding on to. Whether its a passion that we couldn't fulfill or a love that went wrong. So hopefully when I'm writing on my unfullfilled love for dance, you are dwelling on whatever or whoever it was that got away from you. I think mankind was made for passions. Grand, poem sprouting passion. And I think we are taught to be ashamed of showing such passion (unless it's vampire related) so we let go of what we love because we're told we need to grow up. We get jobs that involve computers and costumer service while we silently dream of dancing or soccer or comic book creating. Isn't it sad to realize your parents crushed your dreams when they thought they were preparing you for the real world. And maybe they were. Maybe a 9-5 job is what the real world is all about. But It's one thing to have given up on a dream. It's another to have a dream replaced with responsibility that shouldn't have been yours. "It must have been love, but it's over now"