I was five years old when I experienced my first ever heartache. I was part of a dancing group together with my other classmates in school. Boys and girls were of equal number, so we were partnered to form a pair - a boy and a girl. I, too, have my own partner - a boy that I do not remember. One time, one of the boys back down from the group, which ended in one of the girls being partnerless. Of course, she wanted to still be part of the group. Worse comes to worst, I was replaced. To make a room for her in the group, I had to quit. She and my partner were formed to be a pair while I was left to question myself.
One time, we were called to practice the choreography in school. Unaware of their plan, I went there together with my sister's Yaya. My teacher and my sister's Yaya were talking while I was at the side of them, wondering why I was not on the stage practicing with my classmates. A thought suddenly came up to my mind, I knew I was no longer part of the team. I did not cry, nor threw a tantrum. I stared at the stage, looking at my classmates smiling while dancing - looking at my partner and the girl awkwardly dancing at the back. After my sister's Yaya and my teacher's deep conversation, I was told to go home. I did not answer while my sister's Yaya called my name, I stared at the stage and felt a tinge of disappointment. I rose from my seat and turned around, never looking back again.
Pain is what I felt that time. I did not cry, but I knew I was feeling sad as my heart is beating so fast - the same as how fast I was replaced. My first taste of reality.
