#les wilis

[angeluscore]

I'm watching les wilis and by the gods im speechless with this first act

[margotfonteyns]

Giselle, Corps de Ballet of the Teatro dell'Opera, Rome, 1980

[verycoffeetidalwave]

Fairytales don't always have a happy ending, do they?

Fergie

[verycoffeetidalwave]

giselle

before i was a wili, i was a little girl who just wanted to dance. dancing made me happier than any person. people weren’t permanent, but that didn’t bother me so long as i didn’t let myself care too much about them. then i met someone who made me care about her because she made me so happy when i was with her. my relationship to this person was one like i’ve never had before. before i met her, i didn’t let myself get attached to people because i didn’t want it to hurt when they left. but after id known this person for awhile, i realized that she wasn’t going anywhere, ever. she was just as weird as i was. all we wanted to do was be happy. we were a perfect pair. it was like our souls were connected somehow. it’s hard to explain. we danced together. that’s how we met. we were two of the best dancers at the studio. the main roles always went to one of us, but we never got jealous of each other. we cheered each other on. before her, i didn’t trust that anyone would ever care about me forever. but she would. like i sorta already mentioned, she kind of forced herself into my life, like when Albrecht manipulated the flower to trick Giselle into letting him in. like albrecht, h had no business doing that, but her aggressive efforts made me think she must’ve really cared about me. she loved me. no one loved me more than she did. and i loved her. she was my best friend. i never wanted her to matter to me, but she never gave up until she did. then, i got sick, and she took care of me. she stood up for me when i couldn’t because of my cognitive speech issues or just my lack of caring enough to defend myself. she always made sure i was okay. i had no idea how poor my health was or how big of a deal it all was. all i knew was that i had her and that was all i wanted to know. then, i got sick again. my cognitive ability was much worse this time around. i didn’t understand much of what was happening. i do remember that she was at the hospital with me a lot. she brushed out my hair, which was in nasty knots. she was there when i left the hospital. we took her home when i finally got to leave. everything felt ok. after that, though, she was curiously impossible to get in touch with. a full 24 hours went by and she didn’t answer my texts or calls. it was a big deal to me because we were always talking to each other, but i brushed it off because i figured seeing me in the hospital must have been pretty upsetting. understandable. then she avoided seeing me once was i was up to going places, like to dance. i don’t know how she did it since her mom was a teacher at our studio, but she couldn’t keep it up because i ended up filling in for a friend for a competition in a bunch of dances that h was also in. for months, she wouldn’t talk to me or even look at me. i knew that things weren’t supposed to make sense to me, but i knew this was different. i started to think of all the reasons she might not want to know me, because if she'd stopped loving me, then there had to be something seriously wrong with me. for the first time, i started to hate myself. i fell apart. i'd never wanted her to matter in the first place. she tricked me. at some point, she became everything that i was, and i was everything she was. so when she broke ties with me, i expected it to not last. it did last, though, and she was just fine. but i wasn't fine at all. i decided i had no reason to live after that competition. no one needed me after that. coincidentally, our dressing room was high off the ground above a concrete sidewalk. it had huge windows with no screen or any sort of thing to stop me. after my five performances were over, my little sister stayed with me until awards. i couldn’t do it while she was with me. i didn't kill myself (and, for the record, in SO glad i didn't), but i think that was the day i died and started to become a wili. i had planned to not be alive after that day for quite some time. i guess it never really registered in my head that i didn’t go through with it, because i felt very dead afterward. not long after that, i started harming myself. i didn’t do a great job of hiding it, but i was always acting happy so people believed me without question when i gave them crap excuses like “i fell…on the stage.” everyone bought it–except h. she heard that ridiculous claim and confronted me about it after everyone had left our dressing room. of course, she figured out exactly what was going on, because she still knew me better than anyone, and because i was incapable of lying to her. we talked about it, just like we would’ve before i’d gotten sick. i was just so glad we were finally talking, i thought everything was going to be normal again. but she never acknowledged the fact that we hadn’t spoken in months. she just acted like none of that happened. after a couple of weeks, she went on pretending not to know me. then i started dancing at cyb, where i joined the wilis. they were like me. they loved ballet, and they were a little dead inside, but in a lively way. and a couple of them were just as emotionally damaged as i was. without putting too much trust in each other, we support one another, and no matter what’s going on in our lives, we keep dancing.

[verycoffeetidalwave]

lol remember when you broke my heart

good times