It started on Monday - Valentine's Day. I went to dance class (which was good, it kept me busy) and during class, we turned off the main lights, turned on rope lighting and danced in the dark. As soon as I began to dance, I could hear the wasband's voice in my head - - telling me all of the things I was doing wrong, how terrible I looked, and how no one would want to watch me perform. We then got into a circle and all took the opportunity to dance mini-solos.... The voice in my head continued, pointing out my flaws (dance-wise, physical ones, emotional ones), and as I danced, I looked at the floor. It has been forever since I have danced with my eyes focused on the floor. When class ended, I practically ran out of the studio. The entire way home, it was my voice in my head questioning why I had allowed his voice to reduce me to that state. That his voice could reduce me to seemingly run away from what I have come to love (belly dance), even if it was only running away from one night at the studio.
When I got home, I should have known sleep would be next to impossible. After getting home, I tried to keep myself busy before going to bed, trying to wear myself out even more before I got ready for bed. I tossed and turned most of the night. When I did sleep, I was plagued in my dreams. For whatever reason, I got it in my head that he is enjoying his perfect new wife and family (from what I've been told, he has a wife and son). I don't know why I have it in my head that it's all perfect but that was the dream; seeing him enjoying his perfect family. I had this dream Monday night and Tuesday night. By the time Wednesday rolled around, I was praying I didn't have it again and I could actually get some sleep.
Wednesday, I went back to the studio and hoped for a better experience during dance class than I had on Monday. During the second class there were only four of us plus the instructor (so five total) so we decided to play around with some of our past dances. We started off with one of my personal favorites - our "story dance" (the story dance being the one where it's what a woman wishes she could say to her cheating husband but she can't). Surprisingly, that helped. Wednesday, I was finally able to get some sleep.
Thursday was pretty uneventful (thankfully) and that brings us to Friday. Actually, side note, Thursday I dropped my phone on the floor and my ultra cool, sparkly phone case decided to shatter - - I have since ordered one that can essentially be dropped down a flight of stairs and be fine. Friday, after work, I decided to go and have my foot tattoo filled in. I had the outline done a year ago this past October and said that I would have it filled in when I felt more "filled in" myself. I don't know if I'm 100% there as of yet, but I believe having it done will give me the push that I need. I had an appointment to have the work done but when I went to the tattoo studio (with a friend from work), the artist said that he was way behind and asked me to come back in about two hours.
With having time to kill, my friend decided that we should go to a nearby bar for a drink and a quick bite to eat. Another friend of ours lived pretty close and we invited her to join us. While we were at the bar, they tried to get me chatting it up with different guys. They would tell guys (after they started chatting them up) that we were out "celebrating" me. I thought I did pretty well talking with them. There was one point that I brought up the wasband and I received ankle kicks (one from each of them) under the bar. My mom recommended that next time, I ask the guy, since I've been out of the dating game for sometime, if he could explain what dating error I just made. I think it might be worth a shot. Other than that, the one error my friends told me that I made was I didn't ask for his phone number. I figure if he wanted to ask for mine or give me his, he could have. In my opinion, he was more into one of my friends but what do I know... At least I made an attempt...
Then, went back to the tattoo parlor and was able to get the work completed. I came home and have been trying to relax with my foot up since. Yes, I know that the money should have been used towards something more responsible (and I have been kicking myself for having it done since) but there is definitely nothing I can do about it now. I can't return the tattoo.
Oh, well. One way or another I will get everything figured out/taken care of that I need to.... I just have to keep reminding myself, I guess, that it's okay that I don't have all of the answers and that it's also okay to stumble and even fall. I just have to keep picking myself up, dusting myself off and try again. Hmmm..... maybe I should rethink my title because otherwise someone might think that if I fall I might need to actually break something..... I don't think that would help right now.... Maybe I'll just take a break from a Kit-Kat bar instead. =)
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