one glance over, two steps back

i walked into the ballet class like i used to every day for four years straight. it was the school i'd attended the shortest, but spent the most time at.
i was late, too, like the universe was telling me i should have never quit ballet in the first place.

i pulled up my legwarmers, slipped on my old shoes, and stretched out a little on the barres by the windows before i jumped into the combinations with the rest of the students. the girls next to me kept staring, like "why is she the only one not in dress code?" all the other girls were in their leotards and pink tights, and i rolled in six years late with my spandex and band tee.
i can't believe it's been six years since i'd left the company.
i was pretty damn good at what i did.
plies, relevee's, ronde de jambes en l'aire... it felt like i'd only left last week.
i can't believe it's been six years,
i look almost exactly the same, save for the six or seven extra pounds i've put on since i quit, but that was to be expected. my body ached, but my heart hurt more- i miss being in the class so much, and my muscles never forgot where to go and how to pull everything together.

if only the rest of me could pull it all together.