And just as suddenly as it began, Dane's and my rift is over. I don't think it was ever a rift, actually. It was more like my imagined issues. But even so, it was still disturbing. I hate to think what it would be like if we ever did get into an uber-fight.
I would be so distraught that I wouldn't be able to sleep.
In other news, I would kill--kill--to be graceful and lithe. Do you know how hard it is to do show choir when you aren't light on your feet??? Especially when everyone else has had some type of experience, be it last year's performing or musical theatre or actual dance! I am suuuch a clod. And a klutz. A clotz? A klud? Whatever.
But I'm gonna be fabulous. I'm gonna get my Capezios and my snazzy dress and, at the very least, have fun with it. Because I can suck but be confident and be accepted, but I cannot suck and pathetically slink away. Because then I will be shunned. (At least by Dane.)
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