Solo

Day of dress rehearsal for my final performance at Temple University as an undergraduate. How am I feeling, you might ask? Not here. Surreal. I feel like I'm floating through the motions, but I'm not processing them. As I began typing that, I thought I would say I wasn't experiencing them, but that's not true. I am very much experiencing this, it's just not hitting me. I wonder when it will.

There is a lot of fear in me, which I wasn't expecting. Not just fear. Terror. What's going to happen next? I have a job. But it's not my favorite. I have a house. I have a few rehearsals a week. But that's not enough. Coming from the girl who needs to dance every day for multiple hours...I don't have the money to support what I need to survive. I keep talking about getting a car, or whining about my future husband who's in Australia and how on earth will I get him to take me in the company, or the new clothes I should very much like to take into my closet, but the truth is, I don't need that. I need to dance. And I mean it.

Very soon, I am going to have to deal with the insufficient supply of classes that can help me support my need. And that terrifies me.

I can always give myself class, I suppose, but that is just not the same.

None of this matters at the moment because I have a show to be focusing on. This is what I mean. I'm here, but not really. And just typing the words "I have a show," is making my heart twitch nervously. I'm not in shape to be doing this performance, so I think I'm avoiding dealing with it.

That lower back pain that I've been talking about on and off, well it's definitely here. Walking has become an issue, and somehow I still danced yesterday. Here's hoping I can keep it going for the next three days. The pain medication is not helping at all, though, and that is scary. I have no options left but to fool everyone in the audience into thinking I'm fine and hobble off the stage when it's all over.

Won't be the first time I've done it. I can do it again.

I can do it.

I will do it.

Because I have to do it.

Everyone needs to take care of their bodies.

I know your secret. Take care of yourself.

Sorry, guys. I know you were talking to me, both directly and not, but the thing is, you don't get it and I could never ask you to get it. I don't have time to take care of myself. It's actually more ridiculous to ask me to do that than it is to ask me to grin and bear it. If I were to take care of myself, it would mean sitting in an office for the rest of my life dressed in heels and a nice outfit. I was not made to dance, but I was not given the heart to do anything else. I refuse. Give me pain, tears, love and sweat. Give me the few years I have. I'll take all of this pain, all of the nights I'm not sure I'll ever move again, just so that I can walk on that stage and be me for at least one more dance.

So there you have it. Secret's out. I'm having a lot of trouble walking, but I'm still going on stage tonight, tomorrow and the next day, and I won't let any of you know that I'm any different than the next girl.

I can do this.