Flapper Girl

I am struggling.

With how I look, with what I've done.

I cut off my hair this week in an impulsive moment. In a moment lacking self-control, I went to the salon and had them cut off my long hair that I have worked for 2 years to grow back. That I have been working seriously on since Noah left me. Why am I so heartbroken over my hair? Why am I so dissatisfied with a look I have previously had and enjoyed? Why does it feel like I've lost my identity in a few short clips? Looking into the future is daunting as I know just how long it takes to grow this out, and just how many awkward phases I have to go through first.

"Hey, at least I didn't get a tattoo I would regret!" I joke, trying to make it better. But even that certainly would have been better, a more welcome change. In fact, I spent the same amount of money on this haircut as I would have on a potential new small tattoo, all because I was impulsive and unprepared. I long for the sting and the pain of that needle putting new ink into my skin. I want to hurt because I deserve it sometimes. I want to grit my teeth feel the vibrations throughout my body, wash tenderly, and feel the welts.

I look in the mirror and the reflection refuses to show what I feel inside. Inside, I am confident and happy. I am bursting at the seams from the excitement of the unknown. Deep inside, I am beautiful and bad-ass and I love who I am most days because I know that I am unique. So then, if those truths are buried so deep, how is it that they don't grow more roots. How am I so easily convinced that I am unworthy of love and joy. How can I look at myself in the mirror of my car in the parking lot, tears welling in my eyes, telling myself out loud that I'm ugly, disgusting, and that I don't belong? How can those words feel like truth and instead of stinging, they sink in comfortably?

I cannot forgive myself for the wrong things I've done. As hard as I try, I cannot stop feeling guilty for hurting him and I honestly don't know that I ever will. There will be no second chance, not only because he is a smart man with smart friends who will protect him, but also because I cannot allow it. I could not bear to hurt him again, as I am bound to do. I don't know where I am going, but I am almost certainly not bound to Florida for the rest of my life, and I am not ready to settle. I miss companionship; I long to be intimate with a person and feel deeply cared for. If I had one more day to relive that night at the Hangar, one more evening like the one at Prato. I cannot stop thinking of the laughter and how comfortable I was, how happy he made me, and then suddenly, like a fire without oxygen, it was snuffed out. There wasn't another to tempt me, it was simply my own fears.

I cry and I remain sad and I cannot forgive myself because all of it could have been possible if I had been patient. This will forever be the ultimate example of my desires winning out over my logic. Hair will grow back, tattoos will fade, physical pain will recede, but a human heart cannot forget when it has been broken. I will forever have the moment when I broke two hearts because of my own selfish pursuits. I will always have that to look upon and remember that my actions don't just effect me. I don't think I will ever forgive myself, and maybe I shouldn't, because God-forbid I forgive and forger and then do this again. I had fair warning, I had enough signs. I should have known better and yet I forged ahead. I should always be reminded of my callous behavior, even if I never had mal-intent.

I know that he wants me to be brave and true and resolute, but I don't know that it has done either of us any good. I can't find it in my heart to be something that once hurt him. When I see myself in the mirror I see someone who does not deserve to feel that deep love again, because I was not responsible enough before. Looks will fade, they can be manipulated with time and technology, but your true self cannot be hidden behind a lens.