Ive always been extremely thorough in my head. Tearing apart limb from limb the parts of myself that seemed to hold me back. Focusing on each joint yet the root of which was never gotten to. I get it from my mother. "Everything must be perfect or it's not worth the time."
This type of dissection of self tied me to the bed side table every evening though and when morning came, made it hard to believe I could do anything about it or even face another day.
Valerie saw this, knew this, understood this and even though, found me worth something, I can't quite wrap my head around it, really.
I started ballet when I was 6 years old, a defining time, sort of in the middle of it but closer to the beginning than end. We're being defined for the rest of our lives though, becoming and changing as things change us but what that did was set my life on an odd course, one that wouldn't have been if Claire had wanted me.
Putting me in dance classes was another thing to keep me out the house and out of her space. I was a reminder of pain and youthful stupidity. That thought hit me around the summer of '08 when I realized she'd never come to one recital of mine, not one.
Eventually I had to pay my own way, own the passion that was aflame inside of me. Figures.
I don't think she thought this one through and I kind of revil in that. What she intended for selfish gain became my weapon.
When I dance, I fly far above any dart she could throw at me.
The more she didn't show up and the more she tore me down with her words trying to shove her morbid outlook onto my tiny shoulders, the more I threw myself into the safety of the music that embraced me even to within, more than she ever did. I don't blame her, she wasn't able to hold me, her mother made sure of that.
"Lemme guess, you're lost in a daydream about yours truly?"
I'm immediately yanked back into reality. The park bench right beneath the weaping willow that hangs over the lake deep in the middle of the park. A classic Maddie spot, close to the school, far from home. Perfect.
I realize I hadn't responded or even moved at all.
"Was hoping you wouldn't see me if I kept completely still."
"Too late, I've seen you." A playful tone but a voice I don't recognize.
I look up and it's a literal rando. Ugh. He's smiling at me and I can tell exactly why he's here and what he wants. It's always the same.
"Ah, so you're a stalker, a watcher, a psychopath?"
His pretty little face drops.
He doesn't know the song, already losing brownie points.
"Are you here on business or leisure?" I ask before he tries to come up with some stupid answer to save the sinking ship.
He's quite flustered and trying to regain the confidence he started with, it's a beautiful thing to watch. I surpress a giggle, don't want him thinking that I think he's funny. We all know what that'll do.
"Alright, I mean, to what do I owe the pleasure of this wonderful interruption of my day?" Paired with a tiny pitty smile, just enough to ease the fella or we'll never get through this.
His whole body lightens and a good old, "Was thinking you needed some company." roles out of his mouth. I'm so tempted to continue with my game but it doesn't look like he can handle it. Actually, who cares?
"Because I look like a loner?"
"Exactly, you practically define the whole look, embody it even." Aw, they grow up so fast, I almost grinned that time.
"I'm trying to decide if I'll allow you into my bubble of perfect lonesomeness but I need to know what value you'll bring to this business."
"Well, I'm quite bad at being lonely, so bad that I'm stuck with people that don't have any personality all day and just won't leave me alone."
"You're kind of the opposite of what we're looking for then."
"Imagine all the implications the opposite end of the spectrum could bring, all the publicity even, plus, I have a packet of chips and oreos in my bag."
"You could've started with that!" I shift up and he plonks down next to me, opens up his fancy new looking backpack and out comes the goods.
"I wanted you to like me for who I am not the snacks that I have."
"Then you really don't know a thing about the world." I grab the chips and start opening them because who starts with the biscuits. "Hate to break it to ya but everyone wants something from everyone. That's just how it works, kinda have to gauge what they want and see if it's very bad or just bad." I shove some lovely, sweet chilli flavoured corn chips into the food trap.
"Beautiful view on the world. Wondering if I should join this company. Don't want the life sucked out of me."
"They are fricken hot. Suits you." Nice. There it is. It was going better, I've just let him sit and now I get this.
I shift slightly towards the safer none 'stranger danger' infested side of the bench, hoping he won't notice.
"Not the compliment type?" He noticed. I can feel the routine freak out begin, I should be used to this by now but every single time I'm absolutely terrified that somehow they'll read me wrong and try a move too far. Follow me home, black mail me into selling my heart and soul or something. It's paranoid, I know but come on, I do not know them from a bar of soap, they could lash out in anyway randomly.
I'm suddenly aware that the park is emptier than I thought it was. A million scenarios run through my head. I try and figure out what my escape plan is in case of pda, long uncomfortable eye contact or, the worst of all, him wanting his chips back. All in case I don't confess my undying love after his below average first impression. He probably thinks being a beautiful speciman is good enough. It actually might be. He looks strong. Is that a tattoo peaking out at the neck of his shirt? Wait, what was I doing?
Oh yea, I need to answer, defuse the situation. It's fine, he'll figure out I'm just a scared, boring kid and leave soon enough.
I take a stab at the 'I'm just a small girl' guilt card.
"Not a fan of being hit on by strange boys in the park."
"So I'm hitting on you?" Dammit, fricken wipe that smirk off your damn face, I can read all of this. He's trying to trap me into a conversation I don't want to go into. Why, oh why do I have to go through this agony everywhere I go and this was my favorite spot for crying out loud! Breath. You're a big girl. You've survived these wonderfully thus far. If you count train wrecks as wonderful.
I'm thinking maybe 'diversion and escape' is the way to go here. Here goes nothing.
"Wait, what's the time?" I put on my best, 'I've just remembered something' face.
He pulls out his sleek black phone and checks the time. His lockscreen showcases him in some sporty getup with two pretty girls dressed in cheerleading outfits under his arm on either side. Definitely heading out of here.
"Oh my word, I have to go!" I grab my point shoes and bag from the floor besides me and jump up chucking the chip packet on the bench next to him. "It's been wild. Thanks for the chips. Have a great life."
He pulls a strange face that I can't really read. It's kind of serious and urgent but worried and just a major fail in the lowkey department. It sets off alarm bells but it's probably nothing. Glad he didn't ask me what my name is or anything.
I turn on my heels and start my hasty escape.
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