Trusting people is becoming hard
Keeping my grades up is becoming hard
Feeling pretty is becoming hard
Thinking happy thoughts is becoming hard
Doing work is becoming hard
Maintaining a friendship is becoming hard
Doing everything is becoming hard and I don’t like it
I was rewatching this last night with some of the usual suspects, and I noticed a thing: this is the only time Elsa slips on ice.
She later runs up a staircase made of ice, in heels, while skipping steps, and this is the only time she slips on ice.
I wonder, if on days upon weeks locked in her room, watching life outside from her window, and spends hours upon hours walking on ice. In slippers, in heels, barefoot even. Runs laps around her room, maybe jumping jacks, all just to practice. So she’ll never, ever slip on her own ice again. Because she lost her footing once, and it nearly cost her everything. (And look who paid, paid so dearly that it’s still written in her hair.)
And she’d rather damn herself than lose her footing again. (Turns out, that didn’t matter, in the end.)