Dear X;

Have you ever felt like you needed a dramatic change? I was going through one of the moments last night. I was lying around my room when I suddenly felt this overwhelming desire for a change. So I stayed very still for a moment, struggling to let the moment pass. I get these feelings sometimes and usually I can fight them off, just sleep it off or distract myself so I know that I don’t do anything. However, the feeling was much too strong and I wasn’t able to fight it off like I normally do. Something needed to happen, something needed to change, and I didn’t have any idea what to do.

So I decided to try a change of scenery. I got up and went outside. It was raining hard and it was far too cold to be out. The sun had set, it was late at night, but I went on my walk never the less. I walked for a long time, I lost track for how longer I wandered around out there, but I went on and on and on until I found myself back at home. I don’t know how I ended up there, but looking at my shoes I found sand, mud, and other things that I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what they were. Looking down at my shoes, I still felt that pull, that need, this obsession with needing a change, and walking around in the rain and ending up back at the exact same location was not enough.

Kicking off my shoes, I went back inside and leaned heavily against my door. Rain dripped from my hair, my clothes, I was soaked to the bone and I could feel how cold I was. Kicking off my shoes, for some reason I did not want to get the carpets dirty but getting them wet was okay, I went into the kitchen and poured myself that last cup of coffee. I hoped that maybe the caffiene would calm me down, make me forget this need for a change, but as I drank it the feeling did not go away. It lingered like a shadow, like a bad dream that would not go away, like a nightmare, haunting my every movement.

For a brief moment I thought that maybe I was just being paranoid. Maybe that was the reason why my stomach was twisted in a knot, why my chest ached, maybe I was just being paranoid. It had happened once before why couldn’t it happen again? So I sat down at the table, my hair dripping rain onto the wood, and told myself that I was alone and that I was okay. I talked to myself for a long time, struggling to convince myself that I was okay, that I was going to be okay, and that I was alone, that there was no one sneaking around my house that was going to hurt me.

The feeling did not pass. In fact, it got worse, it got so bad that I thought I was going to vomit. Running into the bathroom, I leaned heavily against the sink and looked up, I looked at myself in the mirror and saw my own reflection staring back at me. That person, that was not me, this wet, pale faced person, that couldn’t be me? Had I really sunk so low? Looking at the sink I saw them, a pair of scissors I used earlier today to cut open a box. I picked them up and stared at them and then at my own reflection. I wanted a change and suddenly I knew exactly what I wanted to do.

I always kept my hair long and now it was wet, hanging down from my head in long dark strands. Taking my scissors, I began to cut those long strands that I had adored all of these years away. I cut them away one by one, pieces falling into the sink until there was nothing but a pile of my own forgotten hair. I kept my eyes closed and looked away right as I finished. Taking the hair dryer into my hand, I dried what was left of my once long locks. Leaning against that sink again, I opened my eyes and stared at myself again. My hair was straight, shorter, I thought I did a good job. And I smiled at myself, it was a smile I knew, it was my own smile, one I had not seen in a long time.

I found my change and as I changed out of those wet clothes, as I cleaned off my shoes, as I dropped my once long hair in the trash, the feeling was gone as well.