I am looking forward to each ballet class at the moment. To the feeling of ballet. Length. Strength. Bones and muscles and tendons all working together to make shapes; familiar, yet unnatural. Full of music, overflowing. A girl in a ballet documentary once said: ‘When I dance there is something that shines within me.’ That’s how I feel, too. Ballet used to be just something that made me happy. Now, it is as essential as breathing.
Ballet, but also music. I can’t live a day without music now. I crave it more than food. I use it to feel, to enhance and express my emotions. I use it to give me energy and inspiration for everything I do, from walking to doing the washing-up. It’s the soundtrack to the film of my life. When I’m not working or sleeping or in class, I listen to music. I’ve often had short moments where I felt the music keenly in ballet class before, where it seemed as if the music was moving me and I had no control to hold back. It is a little scary, but wonderful. It worries me that this wish, this longing or urge or addiction is getting stronger and stronger. This feeling inspired and full of life and music and poetry and beauty, this shining. I’m afraid to lose it, to suddenly fall into emptiness or depression. It has happened before and I don’t want it to happen again.
At the same time, it makes me restless. There is such a lot of energy, passion, whatever you want to call it. A part of it can be used or expressed, but a part of it is going to waste. I wish I could share it with somebody. I could love somebody very deeply, I think. Sometimes, when I imagine it, it frightens me. Maybe I would be too intense and scare my partner away.
But why should I not have love? Why, if uglier and more disagreeable people than I can have lovers, can’t I?