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2004-08-06 || 5:31 p.m. || open letter in the name of my mullet. || dear former boyfriend who incidentally was my hairstylist, it has been a few months since we ended our most holy union, and oh how i miss it sometimes. the mini-holidays around the coast. the feverish jaunts to new york. the sharing of secrets and clothing. the loving. the learning. the regular trims and blow outs. the fact that it's over really didn't strike me until last night when i was brushing my teeth and realized that my hair, like the carefully manicured garden of our love, has grown unruly with weeds and wayward tendrils. and there's this one part? that curls in this really weird way. really, it's deplorable. i've been in denial. or without proper lighting. and the state of my head is a mere shadow of the good times we once shared. last night i cut at it a little and each clipping was a moment of our relationship, sticking to the sink and blending in with the bath rug and disappearing into the lint and stuff that collects around the base of the toilet. i thought of cutting it all in the name of clean starts and well, a better haircut, but the thought of those scissors of yours kept me from going through with it. i still trust you. you can do whatever you want to my hair. i wouldn't rule out perming or asymmetry if supplied with sufficient illustrations of your intentions. i just really. really. need a haircut. situations being what they are, you are far away and have moved on and i accept this. we have tried to keep in touch. there were the emails, the phone calls of good cheer, that birthday present you've been talking about for two months that i have yet to see in the mail, the promises that the next time we meet you will give it to me good, beauticiously speaking, for old times' sake. but i think something might have shifted in me. can you give me xxxx's number so i can make an appointment with him? i will always love you, guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land |