whispers to me with a smile.
And, in a flash, I understand what’s happening – it’s Carly’s birthday and we’re all here to celebrate. Perfect Lexie is about to perform.
‘Hold this,’ Lexie whispers, handing me a wooden baton, before pulling herself up the rope of the swing like a monkey and sitting on the branches above.
It’s then that I see the scaffolding she’s erected. A big structure mingled in with the tree’s leafy branches, and towering high above it in a rickety way that seems unsteady and handmade.
That’s what she’s been doing, I realize. That’s what she used the baton for.
Perfect Lexie, perched on a branch, looks at us all with a glowing smile before leaping up further through the trees.
I’m watching, impressed and moved by the fluidity in her moves – the gracefulness and the beauty. Having never really stopped to appreciate her in this way before (I usually blank it all out or turn everything positive about her into something negative about me), I’m floored by her brilliance, and the way a sweet vulnerability and innocence shines through.
A movement next to me catches my eye. Part of the wooden frame she’s swinging from is starting to buckle.
She notices it, too. She looks at me imploringly as a flicker of panic crosses her face.
It’s not safe.
She should come down.
But she looks so wonderfully magical up there
, my mind tells me.
She can’t stop now.
I jump up from my seat and sprint over to the wood that’s threatening to give way. Instinctively, I throw my weight against it to steady it. It’s painful to do, and hard – but I can’t call out to the others. They need to watch her. Need to see her majestic qualities.
The structure is bigger and stronger than I am. I know I won’t be able to last much longer against its willpower to drop. I grit my teeth and tense my body, willing it to stay in place – knowing that if I were to move and let it crumble, not only would Lexie stop dancing, but she’d fall.
I don’t want Lexie to fall from that great height.
I want her to continue in her serene state.
I want to keep her safe.
I look up to see Lexie reaching the very peak of the frame. She stops and grins down to us all before jumping in the air with a twirl and nose-diving towards the ground.
That’s it, she’s safe,
I realize, stopping my fight and running away from the structure.
Above me, Lexie grabs hold of ropes, making her way back down to us – beautifully and effortlessly swinging through the air with unbelievable strength and control, as planks of wood tumble and collapse behind her.
It’s like something from an action film.
When she hits the ground gracefully my friends gather to congratulate her, completely oblivious to the destruction going on right next to them – and what I helped to prevent.
I don’t mind. As I look at Lexie I feel a sense of awe and pride.
But mostly, I feel protective.
Some dreams you’d rather wake up and forget – and that was one of them, I sleepily realize as I curl into my duvet covers. Reawakening sexual feelings for Dan and fangirling over Perfect Lexie are not my idea of a fairytale dream … but part of it sticks with me as I get ready for work.
Lexie.
Not Perfect Lexie, just Lexie – an innocent and sweet girl who isn’t really to blame for Dan ditching me so unceremoniously. Not really. I mean, it’s possible that if she hadn’t entered our lives at that point, me and Dan would still be together – but it’s clear that I didn’t make him happy and that he felt something was lacking between us, even if that fact wasn’t verbalized or shown to me in any way before it was too late. If I’d have had a heads-up, perhaps I’d have been able to change something – put in more effort or something – but we’ll never know. He clearly didn’t want to work at things, he wanted a fresh start with someone new.
I shouldn’t have held Lexie
so
accountable for the problems in our relationship, I
And, in a flash, I understand what’s happening – it’s Carly’s birthday and we’re all here to celebrate. Perfect Lexie is about to perform.
‘Hold this,’ Lexie whispers, handing me a wooden baton, before pulling herself up the rope of the swing like a monkey and sitting on the branches above.
It’s then that I see the scaffolding she’s erected. A big structure mingled in with the tree’s leafy branches, and towering high above it in a rickety way that seems unsteady and handmade.
That’s what she’s been doing, I realize. That’s what she used the baton for.
Perfect Lexie, perched on a branch, looks at us all with a glowing smile before leaping up further through the trees.
I’m watching, impressed and moved by the fluidity in her moves – the gracefulness and the beauty. Having never really stopped to appreciate her in this way before (I usually blank it all out or turn everything positive about her into something negative about me), I’m floored by her brilliance, and the way a sweet vulnerability and innocence shines through.
A movement next to me catches my eye. Part of the wooden frame she’s swinging from is starting to buckle.
She notices it, too. She looks at me imploringly as a flicker of panic crosses her face.
It’s not safe.
She should come down.
But she looks so wonderfully magical up there
, my mind tells me.
She can’t stop now.
I jump up from my seat and sprint over to the wood that’s threatening to give way. Instinctively, I throw my weight against it to steady it. It’s painful to do, and hard – but I can’t call out to the others. They need to watch her. Need to see her majestic qualities.
The structure is bigger and stronger than I am. I know I won’t be able to last much longer against its willpower to drop. I grit my teeth and tense my body, willing it to stay in place – knowing that if I were to move and let it crumble, not only would Lexie stop dancing, but she’d fall.
I don’t want Lexie to fall from that great height.
I want her to continue in her serene state.
I want to keep her safe.
I look up to see Lexie reaching the very peak of the frame. She stops and grins down to us all before jumping in the air with a twirl and nose-diving towards the ground.
That’s it, she’s safe,
I realize, stopping my fight and running away from the structure.
Above me, Lexie grabs hold of ropes, making her way back down to us – beautifully and effortlessly swinging through the air with unbelievable strength and control, as planks of wood tumble and collapse behind her.
It’s like something from an action film.
When she hits the ground gracefully my friends gather to congratulate her, completely oblivious to the destruction going on right next to them – and what I helped to prevent.
I don’t mind. As I look at Lexie I feel a sense of awe and pride.
But mostly, I feel protective.
Some dreams you’d rather wake up and forget – and that was one of them, I sleepily realize as I curl into my duvet covers. Reawakening sexual feelings for Dan and fangirling over Perfect Lexie are not my idea of a fairytale dream … but part of it sticks with me as I get ready for work.
Lexie.
Not Perfect Lexie, just Lexie – an innocent and sweet girl who isn’t really to blame for Dan ditching me so unceremoniously. Not really. I mean, it’s possible that if she hadn’t entered our lives at that point, me and Dan would still be together – but it’s clear that I didn’t make him happy and that he felt something was lacking between us, even if that fact wasn’t verbalized or shown to me in any way before it was too late. If I’d have had a heads-up, perhaps I’d have been able to change something – put in more effort or something – but we’ll never know. He clearly didn’t want to work at things, he wanted a fresh start with someone new.
I shouldn’t have held Lexie
so
accountable for the problems in our relationship, I
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