The Ballerina

Masks made of shards of glass: each reflecting different facets of this façade. I am masquerading through this parade, keeping my costume secure and in place. I have long since lost hope that anyone could continue to love the show if the mask should slip. My dance carries on, each stop carefully chosen and precise. Each move, down to the last thrust of glitter in the air artfully and skillfully chosen like a surgeon with a deadly scalpel. They cheer on, encouraging different angles of my mask of glass: the sides they like best. I used to sing in this dance on parade, but the tone and inflection through my voice was too hard to keep: too much of the mask slipped with the movement of my mouth. Now my jaw, like everything else, remains tightly sealed. At least behind my reflective cover, no one sees the scars underneath or the tears that refuse to stop shedding from my darkened eyes. No one is looking closely enough to tell the difference between cuts of glass and cuts in flesh; to tell the difference between light glittering off of glass and light sparkling off of acid tears.

I take each step of this dance carefully, knowing each movement is precisely timed. But in the dark corners of my mind, I long to speed up, quicken the pace. We are not even at intermission, and yet I long for the end of the show. I hope this one-night-only performance might end in applause, or dare to dream: a standing ovation. I hope they throw roses at my feet and beg for more, another performance – or an encore at least. I’ll smile knowing I have succeeded: my greatest battle fought and won. I have survived. But I won’t oblige their requests to continue. I won’t repeat the dance. The pain of prickling ice picks through my feet with each step to the ground keeps me light on my toes and every aware of my actions. This flowing, sterling connection is almost too much to bear. I long for the end: to see the night conclude. Just for you, I won’t end early or deprive you of a single moment of the show promised to you, but I won’t continue one second longer than promised either.

So enjoy this time, enjoy the show. Memorize each glittering movement of my mask and costume. Study the stern, set expression. And when I’m gone, relish what you had. Spare a smile for me.