I'm just a ballerina.
A ballerina who wanted to be something more than just this.
A ballerina who wanted to explore the whole world beside my most beloved person, my most favorite artist.
A ballerina who did nothing but cry a nights, alone in her room about her wrong decisions, about her mistakes.
A ballerina who everyone saw as perfect yet was broken.
But an artist changed all of that. She colored my once black and white vision of the world, she showed me the colorful paradises of life, she showed and gave me hope. She made me feel loved.
I danced to classical music like there was no one in the room, I always imagined her near-obsidian orbs focusing on me like camera lenses everytime I dance.
I smiled to everyone genuinely because once she had complimented me and my smile, that it was mesmerizing and captivating. It made my heart flutter.
She also sacrificed her leg and smiled after, because she told me that I needed my legs more to dance, to be able to do ballet more.
I wanted to tell her what I felt. Confess my feelings. But I was scared.
Then a man comes into my life.
