Pirouette [h.s.]

chapter 28

// I'd give you my sunshine, give you my best.

But the rain is always gonna come if you're standing with me. //

"peace" -Taylor Swift

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I regretted the words the moment they left my mouth.

I'd gotten so much better at communicating with Harry - being upfront and open and direct. I haven't hidden away from him in such a long time. But the moment the rug was pulled out from under my feet, I reverted right back. And goddamn did I fuck up.

I knew bringing up Nate would rile him up and push him away and that's what every fiber of my being was screaming to do. But...then he left. He was gone. And the minute he walked out of the door I fell apart. The nurses had to come in because the monitor went crazy, beeping and screeching through the room like a banshee. I was inconsolable, grieving my boyfriend disappearing through the threshold, grieving Sleeping Beauty, grieving my dance career. I let it all flood out into the hospital room, and I haven't let a tear fall since.

And now it's been nearly 2 weeks.

We haven't spoken at all.

I'm still not sure what happened. All I know is that one moment I was dancing and then all of my momentum choked and died, throwing me down into the stage. I felt like I was floating and falling simultaneously - like the stage became a cloud, soft, gentle landing space, until the fire burned up through my muscles. And then everything became volcano - erupting lava and destruction up the auditorium ramps. Everything moved in slow motion, tinted yellow-orange. I know in reality I was whisked off stage in a matter of seconds, but I could have been sitting there for hours; it was all blurred.

When I came to in the ambulance I knew it was all over. It was one of those moments where that sick, swarming feeling settles deep in your bones - when you know that a single second altered your entire reality. Ruptured achilles tendon. Everyone's trying to be hopeful, and maybe I should try, too. But I've learned that hope only leads to disappointment. And...I hate disappointment.

I called Luna the morning after the surgery and she rushed to the hospital, no questions asked with a pair of baggy sweatpants and some sweatshirt she pulled out of her closet. I still haven't told her exactly what happened with Harry. I don't know how to; I'm not really sure what happened myself. Everything has just felt...empty. Like being sucked into a black hole. Swirling within a whirlpool, dizzying.

I guess it's a good thing Harry listened to me - he wouldn't want to be around me like this.

Luna took me home after the surgery, helping me to hobble up the apartment staircase with my crutches. She had my tutu balled up in a plastic bag shoved underneath her arm as if that was going to hide it from my line of vision. The whole ride back she was trying to crack jokes, to bring in her moonlight and push the gravity off of my shoulders. But I wasn't really interested in talking, and even less interested in laughing.

I fished my keys out of my bag and unlocked the door, struggling to push it open while balancing on the crutches. Luna stood back, which I was grateful for. I was appreciative of her help, but I didn't want to feel like I was reliant on her. I wanted to be independent.

And then I opened the door.

Water was rushing from my ceiling. Niagara Falls pouring in the middle of my apartment - soaking into the carpet and building a small pond in the living room. The bucket Harry had bought me wobbled in the standing water as if it were a boat about to set sail.