One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight.

Location

One. Two. Three. Four.

My heart was pumping adrenaline. My legs were shaking. My mind grew close to empty. The music started playing. I forgot everything. I just made up bizarre moves. I smiled like an idiot.

One. Two. Three. Four.

I made it into the team. I always tried my best. I was tired. Tired of being in the middle. Tired of not being noticed. I was busy. I was stressed. I was drained.

One. Two. Three. Four.

I decided to quit. My studies were more important. My homework was on the table. My mind was focused on dance. I took breaks. My breaks lasted for hours. Creating routines were fun.

Five. Six. Seven. Eight.

I tried again. I made a routine. I actually loved it. I actually appreciated it. I smiled and danced with my friends.

Five. Six. Seven. Eight.

Practice was the time. It was time to relieve. It was time to feel. It was time to accept critiques.

Five. Six. Seven. Eight.

I did not take it for granted. It was not a hassle anymore. I trusted dance with my heart and soul.

Five. Six. Seven. Eight.

I was in the front. I danced until my feet hurt. I put all my energy in. The crowd cheered. I felt a rush.

Five. Six. Seven. Eight.

It was the last time on stage. It was the last time with my teammates. I savored the moment.

Nine? Ten? Eleven? Twelve?

I am so glad. I relive those beautiful moments. I dance. I love it. The team does not define me as a dancer. It is all about how I keep doing what I love. It is not about doing what is required of you. I am proud to call myself a dancer.

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