| You never watched me dance. You were the social butterfly, spreading your wings and gathering all eyes in them so that I could exit, stage left, unnoticed. Earlier we had stretched, arms and legs and hearts preparing to shock the waiting crowd. You went on stage first, danced with many partners, always wearing a happy-face mask. We met in August. I found you lacking, though I thought you were special when you whispered “I’m bulimic” in my ear during a close encounter, and I knew you would one day apply that term to me.
Act II; you stuck “cutter,” “bulimic,” “depressed,” to my gown like a post it note – but no one could read your handwriting. And we danced our solos, coming together for a single duet, weaving between, far apart, before coming together again for curtain call.
They loved your dance – you’re a great actor – and your finale! You danced us around in circles in your own tortured agony. But I danced in the background, a barely-there shadow most would miss. I tripped and fell but no one noticed. You hid your mistakes well, but no one cared for mine. And when we danced together for the king, I let you take center stage – I sank into the backdrop and tried not to breathe, tried not to step too loudly on the creaky floor.
And when you saw the bloody gashes from my falls, you asked only – why?
Did I need a reason?
Then hidden from the spotlight and peering eyes I danced rings around you, but you closed your eyes and refused to watch me dance. You didn’t want to know my story. You took stage left and I took stage right and we danced in fiery competition. A wall fell between us. I could no longer see you and yet I knew you continued, so I did also. No one watched us but we spun around and around and made ourselves dizzy and lost. We were pitiful, two lost dancers, dancing for no one and yet unable to stop.
But you disappeared.
I could no longer hear your steps or breath. I knew you were gone.
And yet I still danced because I knew I would fall if I stood still and that the fall would kill me. Blood splattered on the floor in an abstract pattern seeming to say – I am stronger than this. I danced hard and fast and I danced my heart and soul out because no one was looking.
And I never stopped.
© Copyright 2005 frizzbee (UN: frizzbee at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved.
frizzbee has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
|Log In To Leave Feedback|