"Finally, I made it back to New York in one piece and moved back into my tiny twin bed in the mouse infested crash house in Queens. One of my favorite fabulously gay chorus boys from the show had moved in along with me. Having him around should have helped me build up my broken self esteem. That was a lost cause, but I did start dressing better and buying better looking fabulous shoes. I lived on a diet of avacado and nacho chips because the lump in my throat was so large I still couldn’t swallow. Ironic, how sometimes when you cannot accept life you also stop being able to accept food. My roomates asked me if I had an eating disorder. I told them I just had a broken soul. For which there is no cure but time. I wished someone could commit me to the “heartbreak” ward of the hospital and mend me with hugs, romantic comedies and jello served with tiny plastic spoons.
I walked through dance classes, dance auditions and life carrying around my heartbreak in my dancebag, just beside my headshots and inbetween my tap and ballet shoes."
-from Rockettes, Rockstars and Rockbottom by Keltie Colleen
(and a pic of my #1 fab gay in the crash house winter '05)
