There is a problem

with me and dance shows,

with me and concerts,

with me and court scenes,

with me and relationships.

When I watch dance shows,

Ballet and Jazz Ballet especially, I always feel like going back to it.

Like, filled with this searing desire to go back to it.

Having watched Black Swan, I went and looked up ballet classes for adults. That's how bad I had the bug. And then I feel a tad sad that I didn't stick it out when I was a kid.

When I watch concerts, or concert-type things that involve singing,

I miss it myself. I fight the urge to climb up onto the stage and sing and run around and be a complete fool. Or, I sink into my seat, pained by the injustice that I see before my eyes as someone with clothes falling off her petite frame murders and rips the guts out of a beautiful song.

When I watch court scenes, or read about them (Hello, all you Jodi Picoult fans!)

I think to myself, "God, I should be a lawyer."

To delivery speeches so compelling it moves your audience jury, to a decision. To dissect and analyze and choose your words such that you allow people into the grey area, if not force them to see into the black and white.

Then I realize, over and over and over again,

that I'm just a performer. Maybe that's it then, that's my problem. I'm a performer and it doesn't matter what I'm doing, I just want to perform.

And I sit, mull it over, chew on the thought like a Mint-flavoured gum.

But I find that answer doesn't quite cut it.

I think it's the intensity in the above three. From movement to movement, or moment to moment. The sureness of it. The knowing exactly and precisely what will come next.

Knowing it so well, that your body does, even before you do.

Because Lord knows, you're screwed if you don't.

When I watch relationships,

up close or from afar, I get scared. Scared, irked, disturbed.

Sometimes, sometimes, there's the "aww" factor.

"Aww, that's kinda cute." "Aww, really?" "Aww, a new toothbrush?"

I think the weirdest things get me. Flowers are nice, but a toothbrush you picked out, or chocolate or a CD or tape that made you think of me, that makes me smile.

Aww-factor aside.

For the most part, I am scared. Clearly I can't put across to you the immensity of how I feel.

But scared like, half paralyzed fear sometimes.

If not irked, if not disturbed, if not barfing.

Not because it's not all nice and sweet, it is. But there's just, well, a lot of stuff that comes attached.

So, no.

I don't ever look at relationships and ever, ever, EVER think, I'd like to be in one.

I might think, "that bit would be nice", but never, "I'd like to be in a relationship."

And here's the thing-

the intensity of it is what scares me the most.

So.

I sit on empty stages, stare out into a sea of empty chairs and think,

"Isn't that odd?"

But I take in what I am, the space I'm in and what I am in this space. I am home here, on this empty stage.

I don't need an audience to perform.

I don't always know what I mean, or what my words are trying to say, but I learn to trust myself.

And I find myself with my eyes closed, standing on one foot,

learning to find the joy in losing my balance

and not being prepared for what might come next.