There's this little thing called time. Whether it's man-made or an actual force, it's there. Ticking away minding its own business and making our lives longer.
Today I discovered that I'm really good at being in the wrong place at the right time. Today I've managed to have Julie Kent (principal dancer for ABT) walk past me and watch her during a ballet class, end up in the wrong dance class, get on the wrong subway, talk all day with a gentleman, and fall out of love with the boy who broke my heart. And it's in perfect timing. All of today's events were kind of a domino effect. It seemed like every event connected with the next in the strangest way...
I signed up for a contemporary class at Steps on Broadway, and as I was sitting in front of the studio stretching, a tall, slender, long-legged, beautiful woman walked by. I smiled at her, and I did a double-take because I realized who it was - it was Julie Kent. For a split second, I thought I was in the movie "Centerstage". It was unreal. And I stood outside the studio watching her do plies all the way up to adagio, and, let me tell you, she's still got it. Because I had my gaze fixated on Ms. Kent, I ended up not paying attention to the time and getting into a different class. It ended up being a Jazz class, but it was an amazing class nonetheless. So what, I hopped into the wrong class. But I still had so much fun and overall good class, and I wasn't at all too bothered by the fact that I took a different class than the one that I signed up for. To me it was a successful class because I got to do what I went there for - dance my heart out.
Then I waited in the waiting area for the wrong subway, only to realize after hopping on for a second that it was the wrong one. Thankfully, I managed to jump off before the subway doors closed to take me all the way up to 200-something Street. Which prompted me to post my facebook status to "hello, my name is bria, and one of my special skill is getting on the wrong subway." And this funny little facebook status made the boy text me and tell me a cute little story about his last trip to NYC. And what a gentleman this boy is. A rare gem, I tell ya.
And this led to the scary feeling of letting go. Of finally falling out of love. Of finally moving on. The scary, exciting feeling that you're ready for something new. I've taken something out of my life that is obviously bad for me, and just as I did that, something new comes along to fill in that empty spot before I can even get sad. And it starts to get creepy when I realize that I'm over him, and he texts me saying that he misses me. And I frankly don't care. Because I'm here. Right now. Moving on. And loving life.
It's all about timing.
Once again, I blame it on this city. It's magic.
wasted time on loving you. wasted time, wasted time on someone who won't love you as much as i, as much as i...