132 (short story)

132

        I started dancing when I was 2. My mom was my number 1 supporter my father, not as much. He thought I was wasting my time and I should invest in something 'worth while'. He never came to my recitals. I guess it hurt my feelings a bit when I was younger but now I'm desensitized from it.

        I was watching some old videos from my past performances. I noticed that right as the curtains open, I glance at my mom and smile. Then, I look around for my dad, that glance would quickly turn into disappointment. Now, I don't even bother looking at the crowd. I just start dancing because I know he's not there.

        Don't get me wrong, I love my dad. But, he doesn't support me in the one thing I love the most. At home, he never brought up dance. It would never come up in conversation and if it did, it would quickly get shot down by him. Now, I'm 18, moving out, on my way to Juilliard and he has still never showed up to any of my dances.

         Until one day. I had one more performance until I moved out of my small town to Juilliard.  My dance studio gave me a beautiful lyrical as my farewell to the studio. The curtains opened and of course, my mom was in the front row holding her camcorder. But to my surprise, my dad was sitting next to her. I did my dance and went backstage to hang out with my other friends. At the end of the recital, I went down to the crowd. 

"You did great out there, Juli!" My mom said with his arms wide open.
"I was so stubborn. I regret not coming to all those recitals." my dad said.
"132"
"What?" He asked.
"You missed 132. I've been counting since the first one."