Cut

Snip.

There it goes. 6 inches of the crown of my head. I watched as the strands of my hair flit down softly on to the white tiled floor. There’s no more turning back. I ain’t going back. This was it. I’ll push through. I’m moving on.

Snip.

There goes my pain from realizing that we are never going to be.

Snip. Snip.

Off with the pain of knowing you’ll never see me that way. Along with that are all the times I thought you did.

Snip, snip, snip!

I closed my eyes as I breathed in. Then slowly, I breathed out. Exhaling every word that I did not give voice to. Every word I can’t bring myself to tell you. Every word I wish had the courage to say, but the time for me to give them life has passed and so I am releasing them now. This is it. I am moving on.

Snip. Snip, snip.

I opened my eyes. The do was almost done. And so was the deed that I was doing. I shifted in my seat as the pair of scissors took a break from its tedious task. Around me were piles of dark, black hair. As black as the nights I spent foolishly believing we could happen. As dark as the days I realized I was truly foolish for even thinking so.

Snip.

Snap. Something inside me clicked, startling me because I began to see what I cannot see then. These feelings of mine were transient. As transient as the time from my last haircut to this. As temporary as the time from this haircut to my next. Born out of my selfish need to love and to be loved. And I feel sorry for dragging you into this “temporary” phase of mine.

Snip. Snip. Snip!

Alas, ’tis done. The artful and dramatic craft of cutting–cutting away my feelings, my fears, my doubts, my fantasies, my hair–is done.

I looked at myself in the mirror. This is me. This was me before I met you. Before I shattered myself into pieces with shards of desperate fantasies. Before I tore myself up with my own cowardliness. Before I cut myself to shreds by the sharp pair of shears you handed me.

And now, I’m back.

And as I headed back to the comforts of my home, I can’t help but feel lighter. Like a big burden has been lifted off my chest. I feel brighter, more alive now than I was before.

And as I entered my room and faced my reflection once again, I saw a strand of hair still longer than the others.

Am I still hanging on?

I smiled and let out a small chuckle as I open a drawer on my bedside table.

Nope.

Snip.

05/09/17 1:07 pm || 05/28/17 8:23 pm

Artwork by Naomi Beatrice Villaflor.

The year is about to end, ain’t that right?

Well, yeah. It is. And there’s no stopping it from ending. Life goes on, right? Even if we are weighed down by all the baggage we carry, time will slow down, much less stop, for no one. And so, I have decided to leave all my unnecessary baggage in 2017. I want to start 2018 as light and as free as possible from the unnecessary burden of my past selves–feelings, thoughts, material things that will only hinder my growth.

2018 is a fresh start. A new chance.

And I am taking it.