Are there parts of you that you consider to be inseparable? Things that you just do or have or wear that you don’t even think twice about? Like doing your makeup every day, or putting on a certain deodorant or perfume.
Or wearing a wristband from the Reading Festival.
I mean, everyone who’s known me for the last four years knows that I’ve worn it for at least a year, like some kind of trophy of my dedication to music. Because those who know me know that I live for live music.
As I said the other night to a friend, desperately trying to make someone understand what concerts and festivals meant to me; sometimes live music is the only thing keeping me alive; And, though I’m not religious, Reading Festival is perhaps a spiritual experience for me.
But sadly, I had to cut off the 2016 band prematurely.
I suppose that’s what happens when the same loop of fabric is dragged through all the dirt and mire that comes onto a person’s hands. Eventually, it just turned on me– I’ve never had dry skin before, and yet my right hand is now growing its own veritable, crusty exo-skeleton. I deduced either the band drying out my skin or I am very very slowly going to turn to stone.
Now that it’s gone, I can’t help but feel like I’ve lost a little piece of myself. It’s nothing too dramatic, it’s not like I’ve cut off an arm or lost my sight, but it’s more akin to getting a haircut. Those moments when you can feel the difference of weight pulling on your head but you’re not quite sure if you like it.
I’m sure in time I’ll forget it was even on my wrist for those seven months in the first place, but for now, I’m left with a fading imprint on my arm and I’m looking forward to finding another to replace it.