As she cut my hair, I felt like the burdens of my past were being snipped off. My straight long hair, which has been the same way for the past 20 years of my life, which I have been preserving, just like I preserve so many other things...

I think I know why I am obsessed with history. Because I am obsessed with preserving the past. I am afriad of change. I hold on to things longer than is healthy for me. Anyone who has ever seen my room will know that I am afraid to let anything go, even the tags from my clothes. (Once, even my hair after I had cut it). Whenever I throw something away, I feel a slight pain in my heart. Like a pity feeling, that its a shame how much I've invested into that one object.

More abstractly, my relationships are all like that. I'm afraid to meet new people, I hold on to my old friends too tightly. I can't let anyone go.

Now - with my new hair - I am ready to begin a new decade of my life. Leaving my past behind on the floor of that haircuttery for them to sweep up later...