The Dancer and her two vampire lovers

I was at my parents' house in Paris. The day was calm, but around eight o'clock in the morning strong winds came up, which made me run to my parents' house, where the heating, the fireplace and my mother's hot soups and infusions were heaven. I had that morning free, because since our choreographer and teacher suffered a serious injury, now in the Ballet we took Thursdays for dress rehearsal or rehearse some work as a soloist, I decided to take refuge in the warmth of my home. My parents' house is bordered by a garden full of gardenias, the white gardenias were planted by my grandmother, she said they would protect the house from unwanted visitors and enemies. In winter they leave a trail of snowflakes that intertwine with the frozen snow creating a sort of artificial sky between the plants. The interior of the house is spacious and luxurious, filled with my father's books, most of the walls are libraries. My father is a lawyer and writer. The house is decorated with Chinese porcelain, a grand piano and a variety of artwork. My mother is a curator at the Louvre. I am a dancer, just as my grandmother was a dancer. My favorite painter is Edgar Degas. Somehow admiring his works made me know from a very young age that I wanted to be a professional dancer.

My career in the world of dance began at the age of 8, when I joined the Paris Opera Ballet, by which time we lived in Louveciennes and had a house on the beach in Perpignan, bordering Mallorca, Spain. My father drove on Friday nights, and on Mondays early in the morning I traveled by train or accompanied my father to drive. My childhood was perfect until I started studying ballet. Dad always took me to ballet very early in the morning, sometimes interrupting the class to take my shoes, leotards or some ballet clothes that I had left at home.

My mother would pick me up at noon and in the afternoons I would go to school. I enjoyed studying ballet in the morning and going to school in the afternoon. I enjoyed waking up and knowing that the first thing I would do every morning would be dancing. Dance gave a more exciting meaning to my life, for as long as I can remember I know that I live, exist and breathe because I have to dance.

I put the music at full volume on the sound player and the mirrors in the corridor gave me back my reflection. The song from 1975 - If you are too Shy started to play. That morning I was wearing a knitted sweater that belonged to my grandmother, turquoise blue leggings fitted to the curve of my waist and a red bra. Carmine red lips bordered a smile as I shook my hair and smiled listening to the music of 1975. The truth is that, despite being a classical dancer, I love contemporary rock. I have a weakness for rockers and rappers. My ideal date would be dinner with Billie Joe from Green Day, or Eminem.

The only man who ever broke my heart was a hip hop dancer, he loved to wear ripped sweatshirts and wear his hair in a ponytail, he had muscles where men have muscles, and he also had defined and worked muscles where dancers have muscles, his name was Cris. We studied the last year of high school together, he was transferred from Lyon to Paris. But when I joined the company at the end of high school, our tight schedules collapsed everything we built, the dreams, the promises, and his kind words and attentive gestures seem now just a dystopia. He was the one who hurt me when Cris told me it was best not to have any contact at all, he blocked me on all social networks. It's funny because I was the one who told him that our relationship would not work. I was hurt by the immense distance between us that was opening like a crack in time. Still, he saw it coming, like a dancer who can guess the next move his dance partner will give. So, he stopped me before I approached and finished our thing. He told me he wanted to get away from me, and it was he who decided... to get away from me.

I have three years with my boyfriend Seeley, I met him at the Paris Opera Ballet. Seeley is a soloist dancer, and he is the best male dancer, he really is the best. I don't say that because he is my boy, or because all the time I think of him, when I see the brightness of the sun, when I see the depth of the clouds, when I watch carefully how the Seine flows, in an infinite and prolonged way, I think of Seeley.

I don't remember how it feels to love Cristian, although he was the first man to touch my body, now our story remains in a corner of nature, in the echo of the wind that resounds in my ears, the glow of the lights when night falls all over Paris. Cris is a memory that covers my body, I don't see him, invisible, but he envelops me like the breeze. Maybe sometimes I dream of him, but when I wake up I don't need to look back. At this moment in my life, what keeps me standing, spinning and dancing is dance, the love I feel for Seeley is just an extension of the love I have for dance.

Now I dance to the beat of a song blaring from the player as the curtains border the living room and the furniture delicately stretching out, the cleaning lady Emilia, has taken Thursday morning off as she has her mother ill. I listen to the music of somebody else, from 1975. I dance leaving my body in freedom, I free myself from the ballet technique and seek to express myself through lyrical and contemporary dance.

I don't want your body

But I hate to think about you with somebody else

Our love has gone cold

You’ve intertwined your soul with somebody else

I let my blond, wavy hair loose and it moves from one side to the other as my cheeks caress the wind. I turn my head delicately, perform a brissé, chasé, and a free spin like Isadora Duncan being happy at sea. Dancing I am really free, I ride on the furniture, jump on the chairs and look at the mirror as if I were looking at the reflection of my soul, I feel that nothing makes me shine, nothing gives me wings, like dancing. When I finished listening to the music of The 1975 I prepared a bath of salts and roses in the jacuzzi of the main room. I put my feet in and practiced the plie, toe, flex on my toes for a long time. Even though it's raining and the strong autumn breezes can be felt, with the heat and warm water bath I feel blessed like a mermaid breathing on the high seas.