artistry and broken bows
I don't want this to turn into a break up diary, or a heart break diary. I acknowledge life isn't easy for me right now, I'm not discarding this section of my life simply because it isn't very pretty, but because dragging yourself out of a black hole, keeping your head above water, recovery... feels overfamiliar and overdone, like a piece of dried steak. Tasteless, distasteful.
I don't need to broadcast a step by step record of how I pulled myself up again, because concisely and simply, sadness is sadness.
�It�s not about the competition, it�s about being a dancer, which means you dance when you�re in pain, you dance when you�re heart is breaking. You put what you feel in, into the performance. That�s when you become the artist I know you�re capable of becoming.�
� Ms. Raine, Dance Academy
The metaphor is perfect. You have been my old friend for so long, been with me through it all. It is like you have taken my essence into you, you and I co-exist effortlessly, you know my wishes before I even consciously think them. And now that you are gone, I find that no one else is the same, no one else is as good.
It says something about the way you used to treat me, that now at this betrayal, at this refusal when I need you most, at abandonment... that I don't feel disappointed, or pain. I only feel numb.
The most important thing you taught me is there is no such thing as comfort and dependence on others. I don't need you anymore, I can't and I won't ever need anyone else. I stand as myself, and any accomplishment henceforth is purely mine.
I only want you when my heart is breaking. I only want to play music when I am in pain, I want to be an artist. My bow is broken.
It feels like when you betrayed me all over again.
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