Against All Odds
My hands are cold. The audience is clapping delightedly and the ice is smooth, clean, traceless. My hands are cold. The music filters through the still air and my feet commence the familiar movements. My hands are cold. I arch my leg and hold the spiral position, attempting to stretch even further than normal. I hope that the dull pain in my overextended muscles will distract my mind from the iciness of my fingers. My hands are cold. How can I just let you walk away Just let you leave without a trace When I stand here taking Every breath with you You're the only one Who really knew me at all As I lower myself into my final hydroblade, I have to remind myself that there is no one present to support me. It suddenly hits me why my hands are so cold; he isn�t here to hold them. How can you just walk away from me When all I can do is watch you leave 'Cause we've shared the laughter and the pain And even shared the tears You're the only one Who really knew me at all He had given no explanation. He had ignored my attempts to discuss it. He had refused to change his mind. More efficient than the guillotine, he�d severed in one fell blow ties that had taken us thirteen years to build. So take a look at me now Oh there's just an empty space And there's nothing left here to remind me Just the memory of your face Take a look at me now 'Cause there's just an empty space And you coming back to me is against all odds And that's what I've got to face I had tried to forget. I had tried to move on. All the pictures of the two of us had been packed neatly away in the attic. I had taken off the delicate gold ring he�d given me on our tenth anniversary, resolving to flush it down the toilet. My resolve had failed me, much like my traitorous memory, just like my clinging heart. I wish I could just make you turn around Turn around and see me cry There's so much I need to say to you So many reasons why You're the only one Who really knew me at all For no matter how hard I had tried, I had not managed to banish the image of his face. It lingers in my mind�s eye, as I lie in bed each night. In my dreams, I often imagine that he is still here, with me. So take a look at me now 'Cause there's just an empty space And there's nothing left here to remind me Just the memory of your face Take a look at me now 'Cause there's just an empty space I feel so alone. The rink seems to stretch to eternity. When he was here, holding my hand, we pushed our sport to the limits and filled ever corner of the rink with energy. Now the darkness is invading and crowding me out. It�s startling what a difference one person can make. I feel so alone. But to wait for you is All I can do And that's what I've got to face Take a good look at me now 'Cause l'll still be standing here And you coming back to me is against all odds That's the chance I've got to take I finish my program and curtsy to the audience. I wave cheerfully. My left hand remains cold. I move it to my hip but the position is uncomfortable and I drop it back to my side. I wonder if the audience notices my fidgeting. I wonder if they can see past my pasted-on smile and rosy cheeks to the tears that are threatening to fall. I wonder if they are as aware of my solitude as I am. I wonder if they are looking at my hand and thinking that it ought to be holding his. I wonder if they miss him too. My hands are cold. The End
