Soul Of A Dancer

I had always loved dancing. Yet since forever, people keep telling me that was merely my innocence of youth. And so I force myself to believe. But oh no, they were so wrong. I was so wrong. That was no innocence of youth. No fantasy. That was, and still is, TRUE LOVE. I never knew that I could ever love anything so deeply...But I did. The love, the fiery passion, is far beyond defination. Afterall, I am born with the heart and soul of a dancer. A soul that is nothing but dead without dancing. I wish I could have realized it earlier. Much much more earlier, way back before I had choosen this path of no return. Before my soul died of hunger and thirst for what is it's only source of nourishment---Dancing.

I know I had been mentioning about this for God-knows-how-many times, and I suppose I should really stop. But I guess it has always been troubling me; a canopy of thoughts, a deep sense of regret; so much like sharp ridges sticking out from the crypt of my heart, prickling me from every directions. So I am. At times awaken from my sleep with warm tears streaming; dreaming of dancefloors and competition pools that dissappear the moment I set my desperate heels on them. Of lost dreams and opportunities that slip past my yearning fingers. And still there are. Endless cold and slumberless nights accompanied by my troubled heartbeats. Troubled heartbeats that make me realize just how much I cared. And just how much I have lost.

Oh no. No regrets should I ever breathe. Not when there is no way out even if I do. My mum used to say something that I suppose is to keep me from regreting a choice I chose yet not chosen by me; and I guess I should actually learn to appreciate that.

~~~When there is no turning back in life, we shall have to make the best out of moving on. ~~~

Yes, I shall.

I hope I could.

Afterall, I should.