Look at the past. When it hurts. I torture myself with thoughts of what could've been and why I'm no longer a part of it. Why I was the one who had to give it up. Give up the one thing that kept me sane, give up going to the one place that provided the normalcy I so desperately needed, craved. Now I am no longer there and no longer doing what I so desperately want to do. And their smug faces look down on me, mocking me, telling me I'm missing out, showing me what I'm missing out on and how they're moving so far forward, whilst I stay stuck right where I started, not able to move forward, not being able to do what I really want to do. I would spend my life on stage if I could - but I'll settle for doing it part time. And I'm not really even doing that.
The ache I feel when I don't dance is unbearable. And the ache I feel knowing I had to give up such a huge part of my life, whilst watching other people live it, is excruciating.
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