Nightmares

I watch my dance teacher’s face change as she sees me: the stress of the show melts away and a smile forms. The pit in my stomach grows, the dread is eating away at me, my mind races. I try to come up with some sort of plausible excuse. Something so perfect that no one blames me. But it’s all my fault. Everything is ruined. The show must go on but the lead dancer won’t be there. Can it go on? Will it go on? It’s ruined. It’s all ruined. I didn’t care enough. I didn’t learn the dances. I asked my friend to teach me, but she smiled and said I could learn it on stage. I could pick up the moves fast. I try to tell my dance teacher I can’t go on. There’s been an accident. No. I have to go, personal reasons, I’m sorry. No. I swallow the fear in my throat and look her in the eyes. “I can’t go on stage. I don’t know the dances. It’ll be a disaster.” But she just smiles. She shakes her head. She assures me that I’m a great dancer. Always have been. She’s surprised I’m nervous. I’ve been doing this for sixteen years and I’ve never been nervous on stage. She gives me a hug and walks away. I desperately appeal to everyone else. Teach me the dance! Teach me! Hurry! We’re on in five! Please! I beg and I plead. I’m desperate. I’ve been slacking. I’ve been coming to practice, but I haven’t been paying attention. Seriously, you’re all depending on me and I don’t know the dances. They laugh. I’m the best one here, how could I not know the dances? I look for a way out. But I can’t leave. Better to go on stage, better to do something, anything, than leave them without a dancer.

I wake up with my heart racing. I lunge forward and pull up my calendar. I scroll and scroll. It’s November, thank GOD. The show isn’t for months. I can learn the dances. I won’t let everyone down. I’m shaking and close to tears. I feel guilty. I haven’t been slacking off, have I? I have. I can’t for the life of me remember the dances I’m supposed to be in. When’s class? What day do I go to the studio? I can’t remember. I can’t remember. Everything is foggy.

It takes 45 minutes for me to realize I stopped dancing two years ago. I’m on edge for the rest of the day.

He’s standing right in front of me. I haven’t seen him in years, but I love him like I always have. He’s looking at me the way he always has—like he’s in love with me, but he’s also sorry for letting me down because we can never be together. He’s the one with the girlfriend. I’m not the one who let him go. He tells me he misses me. “You miss me? You say it like I’m the reason we’re not together. Like I’m the one who moved on. I didn’t do this to us.” He frowns and shakes his head. Then smiles a small, painful smile. “I moved on because I had to. I would’ve done anything to be with you, you know that. You know why we’re not together. And it’s not because of me.”

…

I’m walking down the street when I see him. He smiles, but he doesn’t hug me like he usually does. He’s not calling me by the nicknames he usually does. He’s looking at me, but it feels like he’s looking through me. “Hey, um, can we talk?” The words hang in the air for a second. He must know. He knows. Oh god. He knows. “Sure.” “So um. I overheard the other day that you…have a crush on me? I’m flattered and all but, well, I’m sorry I just don’t feel that way. You don’t have to say anything. I know this is awkward. Um. Yeah.” And it’s over just like that. He walks away with all the inside jokes, the playful flirting, the affectionate nicknames. Everything will change, everything will make him uncomfortable now because knows. You can’t be friends with someone who’s in love with you. You can’t. This is the only secret I’ve kept from him, and now he knows. He knows. Oh god, he knows.

…

Each time I wake up feeling heavy

The first nightmare about one boy, the second about a different one entirely.

Both times I wake up so full of emotion I could burst. Nostalgic for the way things used to be. The way they used to make me feel. Heartbroken because one doesn’t love me anymore. Heartbroken because the other never did and never will. I hold the happiness they brought me in my heart, and I hold the fragments of my shattered heart in my hands.