I remember moments, not days
by
Jay's world

-.-

Moving along, not on
-.-

It's winter again. I'm working at a ballet studio, teaching dance to less fortunate kids in Brooklyn.

My boss is Russian, and used to be a ballerina when she was younger. She's fifty now, married, and trying to give her life meaning.

The meaning of my life is still uncertain, but I think I'm on the right track.

"Isa, Isa, look at me!"

Gracie shouts, waving, standing on her tippy-toes in a horrible plié. She's one of our worst dancers, but the most enthusiastic.

"That's great, Gracie. Now arch your back."

I smile a lot. It's lopsided. I love my kids. They're pure and innocent, not tainted by the cruel world yet, despite where they live.

My days are filled, every day, nine to five. My nights are still lonely, though. I can't get him out of my head. I fear I never will.

My heart is not the same. It's heavy, weighing me down. Tired and worn.

Dreams, hopes, fantasies, they still revolve around him.

Always him.

My Edward.

The man I love who can't love me back.


Sorry for the lateness :-/ Caught up in NYC. Love you all!