Triggers

I wrote this last night (kind of "stream of consciousness") and decided to share it.  It's here unedited from how it came out of my fingertips.  And a sidenote, that my mother pointed out, I do wash my face.  Have just been using something different since I got back to the city.  Leave it to the mothers of the world to point things like that out.   

Tonight I ran out of face wash.  To be honest, I sometimes forget to wash my face now that I’m on medication for my skin.  Whereas it used to be part of my routine, it’s now become something like flossing- a habit I should keep up but sometimes neglect. 

I don’t know why I decided I needed to wash my face tonight.  Perhaps it was the filth I saw at the theater that made me want to rinse myself to a purer form.  Whatever it was, I didn’t mean to ask for all of this when I reached for the bottle. 

I didn’t have any of my normal face-wash left after traveling.  Tucked in the corner of an otherwise barren shelf in my bathroom was an old bottle of a cleanser called “Purity.”  It was one of the few decent items in our Met gift bag a few years back, and something that all the dancers started to use as makeup remover.

As I rubbed the cream colored wash between my even paler fingers, I looked into the mirror and saw a face covered with stubble.  I never kept this much stubble on my face when I was dancing.  I haven’t shaved in almost a year.  I just trim. 

I brought the face-wash up to my cheeks and started to rub it in circles.  I was suddenly transported back into the Met dressing room, to my old life.  The smell reminded me of performing.  The feeling as it touched my skin (unlike any other face wash I’ve used) removed me from my body and pushed me further in.  The more I rubbed it in circles, the thinner it became.  And I couldn’t stop smelling it.  I reached for the bottle and pushed out a second (and completely unnecessary) serving onto the ridges of my fingers.  I repeated. 

I bent over and began to rinse my face with water.  Usually, when I was performing, the water would start to flood back into the bowl mixed with my make-up.  Bruises would rinse off, or whatever bizarre makeup the evening’s ballet had called for would just swirl into the bowl.  Tonight there was no makeup, just milky water.  I felt paralyzed.

Comments

[jackie]

matt... I just teared up reading this passage. But don't worry, your days of rinsing off stage makeup are definitely not over.. just merely postponed.

[Alannah]

that made me tear up too...I hope you get back soon...I'm sure you will!

[sophie b]

this made me sad, but it's beautifully written - i hope you get back soon!