Dusty satin shoes that sit on a shelf, holding memories of both the happiest days and the saddest. The satin is torn and frayed at the toes, the light pink slightly scuffed and worn in, the ribbons neatly wrapped around the shoes. They are a lost dream, a past life, something I long for but know I can never have once more. As time passes I am told it will hurt less, the lost passion that never truly snuffed out, but the longing and memories haven't faded or become any easier to bear.
Everytime I look at them a fond smile curves my lips and tears well in my eyes, hours upon hours spent crying over the memories with those satin shoes held to my heart. I have never loved anything more than the love I hold for ballet. Never have I felt that passion, dedication, and joy for anything or anyone else. I still hum the music that played in my classes. I still find myself repeating choreography taught to me years ago, or that I learned from watching the older dancer over the years every time the melodies I know play over speakers or through headphones.
I danced either because I was hurting, or I was hurting because I danced; either way dance fixed it all. I put everything I am into ballet, and I will never regret that. I will regret ignoring doctors simply because I couldn't stand the thought of having to stop dancing for a few weeks, little did I know that choice turned a few weeks into a lifetime. 13 years of a passion and love I can only dream of finding again, lost.
No matter how much time passes or how much life changes, I will always and forever be a ballerina in my heart.