Ballerina Bee.

I remember when I was dating Bee, for that short period of time which was actually just so special because it was the first time I was experiencing some form of connection and attraction after leaving my marriage.

I would be stiff, and sit on the floor to stretch out while we were both talking each other’s faces off at 2am. My right thigh was always hurting - and still does to this day. One day he was telling me about how when he was a boy, his mama put him in ballet cause she wanted him to be well-rounded. God, I am smiling writing this and getting a bit teary too.

He actually stood up and started showing me how to do the five essential ballet stretches, as he called them. He promised they would keep me toned, solid, and heal me (I still do them).

He gets off the couch and tells me to stand-up, reaches out his hand to help me up and tired, I take it.

He asks me to take a deep breath and extend my right leg into the air while trying to touch my foot.

Bend your knee as much as you need to, he says with zero judgement.

Not being a ballerina, I could hardly bend anything without embarrassing myself. And as my self-consciousness ran interference, I kept worrying that I was failing. I put my leg back down for a moment, closed my yes, took a breath. Lost balance, tried again.

Look at me. Stop looking at your leg.

So I looked at him and he’s like stay focused and picks my leg up slowly. I start tensing up the higher he lifts it cause I know I’m not flexible enough to do this but I try challenging myself and loosening up a bit.

He gets my leg to straighten and puts it on his shoulder and says okay, it hurts a little I know but can you hold it for ten seconds? And I say no way.

Try.

I give him the biggest eye roll and just as I’m about to make a fuss, he puts his lips on mine for somewhere around ten seconds.