When I couldn’t move anymore, I lay flat on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. Just a week left before I leave. I had to perfect this dance. It’s my last one here, my way of closing the chapter.
My phone buzzed—it was one of the buyers asking about the stuff I listed. I replied to each message and set up the transactions for tomorrow. Once all of that’s done, I’ll be completely free of it all.
Or at least that’s what I kept telling myself.
Another late night found me in front of the rehearsal room mirror, going over the moves again and again. My clothes were soaked through with sweat, but I didn’t want to stop.
Stopping meant letting it all hit me—the pain, the anger, the sadness. Instead, I poured everything into the dance. Let the music carry it all away.
That’s how I’m saying goodbye. One last dance to leave behind this state, this villa, and the man I loved for so many years.
And he’ll never know how much of my words are behind this dance.
The day before I was set to leave was my 18th birthday.
Every other year, Ulysses would take the day off to celebrate with me.
We’d go to the amusement park, eat way too much ice cream, and make wishes under the night sky.