I love you, hair. You are not too straight, not too difficult. Slightly shiny, slightly beautiful.
Sometimes you makes me happy. When I roll down the window. When I ride my bike without a helmet.
You have long been associated with beauty in this world. You are hid and exposed and precious.
You are important. This is something Luke tried to intervene on. "Your identity isn't defined by your appearance" he told me once when we were talking about feminism.
And my friend from highschool's comment came into mind: "How am I supposed to attract a potential mate without my luscious locks?" -D.Brown. I think I laughed for 5 minutes.
I dunno. I just felt like cutting it all off. So I did.
And I can't tell if that's a big deal or not.