I knew how worried she was.
Before I left her I said, “You got this. Don’t be worried.”
Then I kissed her.
I took my place in the audience.
But I didn’t sit.
I leaned against a wall.
I felt my heart beating in my throat.
I could feel the rush of blood in my ears.
I knew that to her – this moment was everything.
Therefore that made it my everything.

She posed.
She sparkled.
She smiled ever so demurely.
She floated.
She glided.
She ran to the corner to face that diagonal.
The one that haunted her.
Those bright lights would not blind her – not this year.
She wouldn’t allow it.  Not again.
There would be a triple.
And another.
And another.
The last one bobbled.

I could see it in her face.
Even though I was so far from her.
I could see it because I know her.
I know her because she’s mine.
I’ve watched that face for years.
From the moment it took its first breath.
She continued.
Something was missing.
I saw it. 
Her disappointment.
She took her place again.
In the opposite corner.
She surveyed the diagonal again.
She stepped.
Too early.
She stepped back.
Too late.
Ever so minor.
But for many -
Ever so major.
She finished the diagonal but
The fire was gone.
She curtsied.
I clapped.
She was beautiful.

I ran backstage to greet her.
I took a deep breath.
I knew what awaited me.
-On the other side of that door.
She did.
And her own disapproval of herself.
I walked in.
She was sitting.
Waiting.
She said nothing.
Her eyes met mine and
She raised her eyebrows.
Her lips pursed.
She slightly tilted her head.
And then she looked away.
Immediately I smiled.
I swooped in and embraced her.
I whispered my love and pride.
Told her how utterly lovely she was.
But it really didn’t matter.
Because she knew.
What I knew.
That she had disappointed herself.

We didn’t discuss it much.
Well not until later.
When she searched for reassurance from me
That it would be okay.
Later as time passed-
She had time to think.
The more time to think-
The more her shoulders would droop.
I watched my beautiful ballerina wilt.
Before my own eyes.

Tears.
Whispers.
Sobs.
Shouts.
Her eyes searching mine.
Her ears waiting for my words.
Words that did not exist.
So much time.
Energy.
Effort.
Belief.
Hope.
Prayers.
Diminished in moments.
Moments that she dreamed
Would be so different.

I posed the question.
What would be worse-
To be home…
And have them call your name.
And you not to be there?
Or to go…
And have them not call your name?
Her answer was immediate.
We would go.
Filled with genuine support for the others.
Obvious anticipation.
Secretly praying.

The drive was long.
Ipod in her ears.
Eyes darting back and forth.
Processing.
So.
Much.
Giddiness upon arrival.
Desperately wanting to fit in.
Continually an outsider.
With chin raised
She took the stage.
Her tiny image hidden
Amongst the sea of people.
Quick steps of happiness.
Participation acknowledged.
She returns to the audience.
Choosing not to sit
In the empty seat I saved
Beside me…
A friend encouraged her
To sit with them.
Overflowing with optimism
She walked away.

The lights were dimmed.
They called the names.
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
My heart ached
As if hers was inside of me.
There they stood.
Without her.

No one that sat with her spoke.
Not her friend.
They were preparing
To rejoice themselves.
Her friend was called.
She sat alone.
Watching the mother sob with joy.
Her daughter’s dream coming true.
“She’s worked so hard.”
“She really deserves this.”
“You’re still so young.”
“Such a baby…”

The friend did not return.
My girl sat alone.
Watching her friend
Win.
And win again.
And win yet again.
Nearly 35 minutes passed.
I wanted to go snatch her.
I didn’t know where she was.
But I knew she was alone.
A mere 10 years old.
Hurting.
But I also knew
She was pretending.
Pretending to be fine.

The talking finally finished.
After what seemed like an eternity.
The clapping silenced.
Thankfully.
It was over.

I searched the crowd.
Neck stretching upward.
For my baby girl.
Our eyes briefly met
Across the room.
She looked away.
I saw the glossy film.
Just beneath the surface.
She kept her back turned from me.
Out the door.
Into the cold.
Without a word.
Between the two of us.
I was afraid to speak.
For not to tip the scale.
Of that weight
She had carried for so long.
She didn’t speak to me.
For not to tip the scale.
Of that weight
She had carried for so long.

The ride home was long.
Painful and slow.
Swallowing seemed impossible.
Still speechless.
Afraid of what to say.
Afraid of the silence.
Her head in my lap.
Covering her face.
Pretending to sleep.
A charade I played along with.
It was easier that way.

I needed to think.
So I thought.
And I thought.
And I thought…
“What have I done?”
“This is my fault.”
“She was too young.”
“Why did we come?”
“This was wrong.”
“This is not who I am.”
“But it is who she wants to be.”

I watched her from behind
As she escaped to the house.
I fixed her a snack.
I sat while she ate.
Thinking I’d speak but
Not planning the words.
I asked her what happened tonight
When she was away from me.
Then she told me the story.
I heard her bravery.
The courage in her voice.
Determination to be strong.
Never show weakness.
Don’t let them see you cry.

But it was okay to cry
I wanted to say.
It was hours and hours
Weeks and weeks
Months and months
A year of preparation.
Energy.
Effort.
Belief.
Hope.
Prayers.
Banished in moments
From a little girl’s heart.
Who did nothing more
Than dare to dream.

We climbed the stairs.
And parted for bed.
I layed and I thought
About all she had said.
My heart still was pounding
As if I could feel hers in my chest
I knew this night would never bring rest.

I snuck out of my bed
And slid into hers.
Knowing I was struggling
To find any words.
I needed to be close
She wanted it too.
She asked what I was doing
And I whispered  “Love you.”
She looked in my eyes
I told her I’d stay.
And then we held hands
While the night slipped away.

To those who have dreamed
But it didn’t come true.
I learned something last night
That I’m sharing with you.
No dream that I’ve lost
Or pain that I’ve felt
Has ever compared
To watching hers melt.

Nothing was more powerful
Than holding her tight.
Praying for her-
With all of my might.
Feeling the power
That connected us two.
Allowing that peace-
To flood through
That room.
Somewhere in the darkness
There was a moment of calm.
Holding hands silently.
Awaiting the dawn.