Christmas Time Is Here

I recently connected my love of skating with the Peanut's song "Christmas Time Is Here." It is one of my favorite songs and I can listen to it any time of year. I don't like cover versions of the song, just the original. It's so mournful and melancholy, but not in a bad way. It's more about how beautiful and unreachable feelings in the past can sometimes seem.
I think about that song when I'm on the ice. And I think of Charlie Brown and Snoopy and Lucy skating around as they sing it.
Of course, all good things must end and last week as I was skating around in a circle, a girl who looked like she was about 11 years old decided to skate to the gate across my path. It was one of those slow-motion 1 second moments that you know is coming and just have to deal with. We ran into each other and we were both fine, but my dream world had been shattered and I've had trouble skating comfortably since.
Last night, I had to register to get a $25 discount on the next skating session but I didn't know what class to register for. I do feel like I've progressed, but my back-crossovers are no where near where they should be. I'm tentative, I'm leaning the wrong way, I'm scraping my skate on the ice, I'm going off sideways instead of in a circle. I asked my teacher if I should sign up for the same class again but she told me to go ahead to Gamma/Delta. She's the teacher, so I listened to her, but I'm nervous. I'm nervous about the hesitation that I've recently developed. I'm wondering if I can ever get back to that mournful and melancholy state, but not in a bad way. Lately all the skaters on the ice have started to get to me more: the hockey players who zig and zag, the figure skaters who go backwards and forwards and veer off to flip, the little kids skating in opposite directions, the groups of giggling teen girls that hold hands and block the line of traffic.
I'm still looking for that open patch of ice that I can skate around in without worry. That place outside where Snoopy is doing figure 8's and there's the sound of music in the distance.