A week had flown by in the blink of an eye. Back to the studio again, but it's different this time. I sat quietly at a side of the studio, observing the girls from the mirror. Seeing the girls dancing made me smile, inattentively. Somehow I saw someone's reflection inside those pure innocent girls. Someone, who was like them before, holding the teacher's hand, standing in a circle, imitating her every single movement, trying their best to be praised by her.That's me, once. Going to class was never stressful, in the other hand, it used to be a gladful thing. Why did I stress myself in 'enjoying' my interest?
Suddenly, goosebumps grew all around my body. Was this the thing that I'd always lacked of? Since when I had really really danced with my sincere love and passion? When was the last time I danced happily, without thinking of anything else, except to enjoy?
Tears flowed out from my eye corners when I realized pure love was something I searched for these few years.
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