I miss my students. I miss the movement. I miss the feeling. I miss the floor under my Cats Paws.
I miss the pain of my arches and the pain of my lower back. I miss the sweat. I miss the smiles and facials.
I miss the art of creating, synchronizing, failing and triumphing.
I miss the sequins. I miss mixing music with Tracy in his studio and drooling over the new fabric choices with Teresa at Doolittles.
I miss pumping my girls up before they take the floor and screaming for them while they're out there.
I miss unloading props at 6 am, music check at 7am, coaches meeting at 8am, and awards at 10 pm.
I miss the frantic dancer who comes to me praying that I brought an extra hairpiece and the other dancer who just wants a hug.
I miss the parent complaining to me that the costume is $60 this year instead of $58. I miss telling 4 year olds to hold their taps still and stop touching their neighbor in the tumbling line.
I miss Windexing wall after wall of mirrors and stressing over how I'll pay the studio rent this month.
I miss the recitals and the flowers and the pictures.
I miss wearing a judges badge and getting cramps in my hand after 8 hours of scribbling pointers and scores onto judging sheets.
I miss watching my students succeed and building them up again after they fall.
I miss hearing "Teacher, can you fix my bun?"
and "Teacher, I love you"
I miss being needed. I miss being looked up to. I miss being really really good at what I do.
I miss it all. The good. The bad. The ugly. The beautiful world of dance.
Sometimes it hurts real bad not to be in that world. Especially when I run across videos like this:
But no matter how much I miss it sometimes. I can recognize that it's not the world I'm supposed to be in right now.