forbidden things are always the sweetest. The Aftermath

1

* Neacky *

It's been six years and six months since I left the life, and the me I knew behind . I haven't really accepted that I really am the person I have been in these six years.

The way I have lived , the decisions I have made baffle me as well because each and every one of them made decisions compromised and everything I loved and believed in.

"We are here, miss," the taxi driver said .

I leaned forward, looking outside to the long apartment building.

Heavily exhaling, I opened the door, getting out of the taxi . The driver hurriedly rushed to the car boot, opening it and helping me remove my two suitcases.

" Thank you," I said

" I gat you," he said
" Have a good night," he added, getting back in his taxi driving away.

I pulled my cases entering inside the building to level 7 , to my apartment door,opening it and getting inside.

My eyes wondered about the whole place , the living room , kitchen , the bathroom, then single room, and it was enough. 

I pushed the luggage to the side , then turned walking out of the apartment, closing the door behind me .

My feet led me out to the streets of New York City, my hands tucked inside my coat and let my legs lead me wherever.

A habit that stuck with me , is me walking, yet this time round, I was doing it just to stretch a bit after long hours on the plane and having spent a lot of time on the water .

With how beautiful the night was and how beautiful the city looked , I really needed to wonder about the place.

I don't think I have settled anywhere in these six years , it's not even a thought , it's the fact . I have only been moving around. 

And wherever I have been , I have only carried those two suitcases, never less or more. My whole life rounded in those tiny two cases .

I stood still , getting invited by the street pianist. The melody he played was soft , very slow, and warm . It somehow felt like home.

I followed the tune , getting closer to where he played. The more I got close, the more I realised he wasn't just playing

My eyes got stuck on the elegant dancer , and my lips pulled up with a soft smile as I followed her every move with my eyes.  She beautifully danced the dance that used to dance my whole life.

Looking at her , brings a smile and tears in my eyes . Making me realise  that my emptiness and longing was from missing home , zephyr, and more importantly ballet .

" I am sorry," the little girl mouthed to the crowd .
She failed to finish the dance, stopping halfway. 

I removed my heels steeping before the crowd. I removed my coat, throwing it  behind where I had left my heels .

" Do you know this, choreo?" she asked with a wide smile

"I am a bit rusty." I smiled.

" From the start," she smiled at the pianist .

Looking at this young girl of about 18 or 19 somehow reminded me of the younger me and, at the same time, jealous of her .

The pianist started from the top , and the young girl and I stood in front of each other holding hands , our heads bent looking down at our feet.

With the song , we both began , uniformly with the beautiful girl next to me .

Steeping forward to dance with her wasn't planned and I was filled with worry for my body ,yet as we danced , my body hadn't felt this light , free and in control like it was doing now, in years.