That "OMG I NEED TO BLOG" moment I just had.

I know, I know... I'm a terrible blogger.

I'M SORRY I'VE REJECTED YOU BLOG, WILL YOU PLEASE TAKE ME BACK?

Kidding not kidding.

I'm back because a) it's late at night, and we all know that's when I blog the best (I'm a weirdo, what's new?), b) because it's about time I blog again (once again, blog, I am sooooooo sorry about that. Life, ya know?), and c) I totally had an epiphany where I sat up in my bed (I was just chilling on my phone...my typical level of being social) and said "OMIGOSH I NEED TO BLOG ABOUT THIS IT'S SO BLOG-WORTHY WHERE IS MY COMPUTER I'M HAVING AN EPIPHANY LAUREN BETTER NOT STILL HAVE IT OH WAIT THERE IT IS OKAY."

Ta-da. Typical Julia banter. So here's my epiphany (with a little prologue, of course):

I took risks today. Not the typical teenager risks, as in go-out-drinking-and-hope-I-don't-get-caught or sneak-in-waaaaaaaay-after-curfew-and-hope-I-don't-get-caught (although I've totally done that, more often than I'd like to admit) or (fill in the blank with whatever stereotypical risks teenagers take).

First of all, I rode in the car while my sister - who has her permit and has only driven twice, never with the entire family in the car - drove. Big mistake. I will not being doing that again. Why? Because a) I forgot what sheer terror is when you're flying down the highway and you almost hit the median, b) I actually want to go to college and fall in love and have a family and get old yadayadayada, c) it's too damn stressful, and d) her driving makes me nauseous. Point made.

The real "risk" was texting a boy. Oooooo a boy! Those are rare! Did it come climbing out of the forest? Nope. I just have an assertive friend who apparently said Here, text this girl, you'll like her.

Works for me. Haven't met the kid, but he's an absolute sweetheart and quite the gentleman. (Not the point.)

So we're getting to know each other, I ask him why he loves to run, and he asks me why I love to dance. I had to pause and think in the awkward type one sentence, pause and think. Type two more sentences, go back and alter the first. Continue until you think you understand why you love what you do style. It was quite the process. Shitty first drafts, ya know? When I had it all figured out, I texted him back, then took a screenshot because I'm an idiot and it took me a good eight minutes to figure it out. Here's what I said:

Because I cannot not dance. Haha :) Because when I'm on the stage, nothing else matters. It's the music, the floor, and me... I get lost in it. I'm doing something that involves every part of who I am, from my body to my emotions to my memories. It's like feeling nothing and everything at once, and I live for it.

Well, that's as profound as I get. Hahaha...yeah, no really, it is.

The conversation got me thinking, why is it that I love to dance? How do I put that into words? It's like explaining what water tastes like...you just can't (you could try, but you'll probably end up looking like an idiot; that's a fair warning).

A lot of people dance because they're good at it. Valid reason, eh? (Canadian, eh?) I don't. I don't know why I dance. Because I always have. Because it's fun. Because I cannot not dance. I can explain what I feel when I dance - and even when I don't dance - but I can't explain what compels me to do it. Maybe it's my brain going Hey, remember what it feels like when you nail your turns? When you're one with the music? When you feel like you are the song and the story behind it? All that stuff you like? Maybe you should do it again. Good job, brain! You've created a fifteen-year addiction. At least it's not meth.

This question has become more relevant as the summer comes to a close and college looms closer in the not-so-distant future. I'll be dancing because I cannot not dance, but it'll be different. It'll be Companydance, not Kay Marie and Carol's School of Dance or whatever-theatre-production-I'm-in-at-the-time. It'll be a place where people are perfecting their craft, majoring, minoring, frolicking, wandering, questioning, creating, and hopefully enjoying. Me? I'll just be there, doing my thing. Trying to be better than myself, better than the day before, the hour before, the minute before, and the second before. Why will I be there? I don't need a thesis statement for that. I'll be there because I physically want and emotionally need to be there, living for the feeling of nothing and everything at once. Live on, dance addiction, live on.