Beautifully Broken

Here Goes Nothing

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We all break differently and differently may we all heal. ~ Phi (Dec.notes on Instagram)

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"Hi, my name is Ali and I'm a full time student." I smile at the mirror reciting the line for the hundredth time. " Oh, I just transferred." I continue as if someone has responded to me, as I spear my mother's diamond studs through my ears.

I promptly remove them. What student wears diamonds to class? Stumbling over the clothes strewn around my room to get to my jewelry box, I purse my lips while debating suitable jewelry for an undergrad. Silver studs? Gold ones?

"Shit. What the hell..." I mumble to myself sticking the diamonds back in.

I waltz back to the mirror, picking up a pair of discarded jeans along the way and draping them over my bed before tripping over a pair of LK Bennett pumps. Leaning down, I hook my fingers in the toes to toss them on the bed too. This adventure is going to give me a stomach ulcer or worse, kill me.

I'm a girl on a schedule; I've been on that schedule since I was a teenager. Ballet class every morning after a cup of coffee and a protein bar. Everything else could follow in any particular order. Now here I am, standing before my vintage full length mirror in regular day wear and most definitely not heading to a ballet class. I close my eyes, groaning.

The things I get myself into.

And truly, this is my fault. I made this decision.

I glance in the mirror once more, straightening my navy and green plaid, pleated skirt. Then I check the collar of my black turtleneck before twisting to make sure it's tuck in straight and that my belt isn't crooked. Finally, I slide my flat heeled black suede boots over opaque stockings. The last thing I want to do at 5'8" is tower over all the other students, so I'd decided against heels.

Running a hand through my dark brown curls one last time as they settle I sigh and start my pep talk again, "It's, okay, Ali. Kids go to new schools every day. You're a grown adult. You can handle a couple of college classes and students. It's a professional world too... well, semi-professional. Okay, how about, on the verge of professionalism?"

Returning to my vanity, I pull on my black waist length wool coat and grab my new leather messenger bag from Saddleback that Uncle Bruce and Aunt Amelia gave me for Christmas. Scooping my wallet and Lit book off the bed, I toss them inside before sliding the bag onto my shoulder and grasping the bedroom door handle. Then I hesitate and stare at the door. Am I ready to do this? Ready to face my roommates who are heading off to the company while I head to the University? I can't really answer that.

Emma, Casen and I have been roommates for the past two years. Emma and I knew each other prior to getting hired by Boston State Ballet, the most premiere company in the state of Massachusetts. We met Casen when he'd left English National to join Boston a year after our arrival. While Emma warmed to him slowly, I took to him right away. Being the great friend that she is, Emma finally decided to give Casen a chance a year later... when it came time for her to fork over half of the rent in our new apartment. "And the rest is history," as they say, seeing we've managed to survive each other for two years now. In all honesty, they are the best two roommates a girl could have. So, they have to be supportive, right?