As I step out onto the field, I shed all other worries.
When I’m out there, there’s no one stopping me; I’m truly invincible, or at least that’s how it feels.
I clutch the pole, the silk rustling under my fingertips.
When people start to cheer, I become aware of the little things, like the lipstick caking itself into the creases in my lips.
But none of those things really matter, now do they?
I set my equipment and give a brief smile.
They know that I see them, but it would be unprofessional to react, or that’s what everyone told me.
Yet I can’t stop myself from grinning as the band begins to play, I can’t restrain myself when I have the flag in my hand.
Everything around me flash before my eyes, and the adrenaline coursing through my veins is like a drug.
Before I know it, I’m panting, out of breath, but happy nonetheless.
People cheer and clap for us, but I would like to pretend that it’s really just for me.
I’m excited because I know that it won’t be very much longer
Until I can be in front of all of those lights again.
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