Ever since I accidentally burned my hair while standing near someone who was holding a lighted paper near me, my good hair days appear to have gone into hiding. It doesn’t matter how long I stand in front of the mirror and how long I mould the hair clay into the limp mop of dark stringy strands, my hair just doesn’t look right. No amount of twisting and teasing can get its mojo back. Just gets stickier from the endless hair products. I believe the accident has shot my hair’s confidence to shreds.
This troubles me greatly.
Yesterday was your birthday. I texted you at 12am sharp because I am nice like that. I had left a cash gift in your bag before I went off because I am practical like that. But you apparently only found it after my text. I’m not entirely sure what your reply meant as reactions deciphered from words read from a phone can only say so much. Your text had neither an exclamation mark nor smiley faces to guide me along. And that was it.
The large signboard saying ‘pathetic’ was hanging over my head while waiting pathetically for you to either talk to me online the whole morning or reply to my latest text or even a cryptic message on those various social networking websites you are on. You did neither. Instead you went for your vacation without leaving me a single word. Once again, I’ve allowed myself to get hurt unnecessarily. Five and a half months.
It’s time to lock memories of you away. Goodbye April, hello May Day.