I know I push you too hard. I know I strain you, stress you, demand you to be hyperflexible and to bear the weight of my entire body on my toes. I try to meet you halfway though. I make sure to stretch you and massage you and soak you. I drain the blisters under your nails and cut out the corns and callouses that make for awkward steps. I know you tell me you’re hurting, that you need to heal, but I abuse you and push you forward. I know this is not what you were intended to do, but you have carried me so far – across life and across the stage. You are hurting, throbbing in pain, so it is obvious I am not taking good enough care of you. I’m so sorry. When I dance, it is a compromise of art and my physical limits. I need you. I need you so much, so please, don’t hold me hostage. I can’t do this without you. I need you to fly. Just a little longer, don’t give out on me. Two more performances, and then we can rest. Get that surgery you need. I promise. Just be beautiful and hold me up a little longer. Please.

(Text is fictional; dancer is Gonzalo Garcia of the New York City Ballet.)