The Sum Of My Parts

Chapter 1: Manon

As I got ready, I could feel it, that warmth envelopping me at the thought that I would soon be performing. The process was relaxing enough that it allowed my mind to wander.

I was soon to be 30, this show would be my last. I should have been envisionning my future, what I would do, who I would meet and who I would be.

Oddly enough though, ever since I was a child, I couldn't imagine myself past the age of 30. To some, it may be worrying, for their minds immediately wander to suicide. For me though, it was never so sinister.

When I tried to force myself to imagine it, all I was graced with was darkness and a feeling, a feeling of completeness and warmth. I didn't know how to explain it, it just felt like the moment I turned 30, something would come into my life, something so marvelous it couldn't even be imagined.

To me, this was an immutable fact.
I stared at myself in the mirror, my light copper hair looked fiery in the rising sun. It made me look paler than I was and my freckles stood out even more.

I had been compared to a fairy before.

I was taller than a lot of ballet dancers, about 5'10", which had made my career difficult. A lot of ballet companies still discriminated based on height, after all. I had to fight hard for every role I had, even for the smallest ones.

I shook the dark thoughts away, now was not the time to think about how hard my career had been. I could mourn the lost opportunities wallow in self pity another day.

Now was the time to train, there was only a week left until I performed the role of Des Grieux in Manon.

This was one of the more meaty roles for male dancers, as in general we were no better than accessories meant to show off the ballerinas.

I headed to the studio. I always started my day with an hour and a half of ballet class. These past few months, it was more crucial than ever as Manon would be my last performance.

I trained harder than I'd ever trained as I wanted this to be the performance of a lifetime for the audience.

I still couldn't believe how luck and fate were perfectly on my side. Sure I worked hard but that was only a fraction of the recipe. Many male dancers worked hard but never had the chance to show off their skills.

This was more than talent, it felt like some goddess was looking favorably upon me. She had set the scene perfectly for me to say goodbye to the stage life. For that, I was eternally grateful for I would get my wish.

I wanted to go out with a bang.

As I warmed up, I couldn't stop myself from thinking about my friends. This would be the first and last performance they would all be here to watch.

One more reason for me to train hard and give it my all.

After this, I would go back to an ordinary life, with its own different set of hardships.

I wasn't worried though, my friends had reassured me multiple times that they would be with me every step of the way, even the ones that lived far away.

Truly, you couldn't ask for better people to be surrounded with. Was this also thanks to the grace of some powerful being?

I may seem silly, but now that I was approaching my fateful thirtieth birthday, I couldn't help it. It had always been shrouded in mystery and mystique. Naturally, its mystique was now seeping into other aspects of my life. Simply because I couldn't believe I had been so much because of simple luck. In my mind, it had to be the work of some superior being.

I took a little break to drink some water and respond to a text from Laura, then jumped straight back into rehearsing.

I would make this the most beautiful performance as a thanks to my found family.

They deserved this and more for staying by my side throughout all the good and the bad.

I still didn't know what I had done to deserve such lovely companions. I had met most of them very young, when I was 7 or 8. That time was shrouded in darkness for me as I had tried to forget it as much as possible.

I was really shy at the time and no one really wanted to be my friend or play with me. No one wanted to hang out with the boy who danced alone and looked like a little girl.

Then one day, we had a few new transfer students. The first that had approached me was Laura, she was always the bold one of the group. She had ruffled my hair and sat down to talk to me. The others soon followed and we had become a merry band.

With them, from the first moment, it felt like I had known them for years, it felt like they were a part of me. When I had expressed that, Dali always the jokester had chimed in "Yeah, you do remind me of my grandpa, maybe he's been reborn as you? That old bastard always said he'd come back to torment me one of these days."

It was my first time hearing tje word bastard, but it certainly wouldn't be my last. At such a young age, Dali already swore like a sailor. A habit he had picked from his mother, I would later learn.

Thus it started, everyone calling me grandpa.

Despite lots of friendships ending due to college, work and family, mine never did. We had stayed the same merry band.

Me, Laura, Dali, Sol, Anya, Jean and Valentin, we stuck together through it all and I had full confidence we would be together forever.

"Eros, I got you a green goddess chicken salad, it's on the table for you when you're done." Erika shouted from somewhere behind me.

Only a few days left to go and I could indulge in whatever I wanted to, I reminded myself.

The green goddess salad was good but I had seen a video yesterday about a Gobi Manchurian burger that I was dying to make. I was torturing myself every night, scrolling through food porn videos.

I could feel myself salivating at the thought of putting that saucy burger in my mouth. I had to keep reminding myself that I needed to follow a strict diet, even as I absentmindedly reached for the chips at home.

I shouldn't even have chips at home, I admonished myself. All they did was tempt me further. Despite logically knowing I should throw them in the thrash, I never got around to it.

I finished up my rehearsal and headed for the break room, there on the table the salad was neatly placed. Erika was sitting and devouring chorizo poutine as I eyed her, full of envy.

It seemed like she was almost taunting me.

I had never been so envious of someone than in this particular moment.

Erika had retired a year earlier at 35, but she still visited me in the studio about once a week for a lunch date and to catch up on life.

With a sigh, I sat down and opened my salad. "Eros sweetie, no need to huff, only a little while longer and you can eat whatever you want, like me." Erika said, smiling at me.

I was getting more and more accepting of my own name. The more people didn't react negatively to it, the more I felt at ease with it. I was so wrapped up in how others reacted to such an unconventional name, that I had long forgotten if I ever liked it or not.

When I was a child though, people used to make fun of me for it a lot, so I would come crying to my parents. I would often ask them why they had given me such a name. They would always respond the same way. They would say my name was a beacon for what was about to come my way.

I sighed, I hope they were right, I couldn't wait to experience my first love. For some reason, even if I was 30, I hadn't loved anyone yet. I had felt affection sure, dated a few women too, even liked them. But love was elusive to me, I never experienced that feeling I had read about in Mahmoud Darwich's poems.

I questionned why for the longest time, even thought I was aromantic. That was when I started having the dreams, dreams about a melodious laugh, a deep feminine voice calling my name. When I woke up from these dreams, it felt like she was the only woman I could ever love.

She was the destiny I would meet soon and I couldn't wait.