May 27

I no longer can keep up with this dance. My legs are worn out from trying to move accordingly to your rhythm. I have been trying to keep up with you, appearing graceful with every maneuver you make, but I’m a walking calamity. A beautiful and reckless mess that is no longer interested in dancing. I am a woman who dances to the beat of her own drum. To follow your lead would be an insult to myself.