I daydreamed.
First of success(es) in track.
Images of myself zipping by with fire-like passion in my eyes. My hair bouncing determinedly on my back, as though it is the force pushing my body forward with barely a tap. My legs and their raw strength that can tare up the faceless wondergirl in the backstretch.
Secondly of the dance.
Gliding out in my crimson dress, my makeup flawlessly applied. Somehow I look different. People stop to see this strange newness. 'How can this be? She is so beautiful; with her eyes a wild and open blue and her perfect stride as she glides.' They will tell themselves that I have always looked this sweet. My armcandyness will overcome all.
Daydreams are a powerful thing. The can be created after a particularly straining speed workout or after a certain someone happens to throw a smile your way.
Daydreams are unattainable in the kind of way that makes you go insane. Yet somehow the keep us living in the moment- because whatever happens we can always pretend that the outcome is/will be exactly the one we want.
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