my home is on ice

There's no place like home.
There's no place like home.
There's no place like home.

I wish I could just click some red heels and end up at the ice skating rink. That'd be terrific.

I used to compete on ice, I used to be in plays on ice, I used to center my whole world around performance and shows. And now I'm lucky to have my ice skates out once every two months. Those two sentences I just typed could possibly cause depression.

There is a designated area for stretching. This is where we pretend like we are ballerinas and jazz dance. Becauseeee... we're that cool. But hey, I used to be a ballerina so give me props.

And all this stretching is so I can do this move without feeling like my muscles are about to rip. 

And of course ice skating would not be anywhere near as fun without my best friends. 

Ice skating is my life. Or at least it used to be. Now it's just more of a dream that I wish I could start back up again. Time is a very greedy thing. It takes up my whole day, which makes it complicated to have trips up to the rink every so often.

Maybe one day I will skate again, because gold medals are what I want to live for.