The Long Goodbye

I want my hair back. A couple of days ago I got maybe eighteen inches of my hair cut off. I am still quite glad I did it but I knew I would want it back at some point, and I want it back now. It was my shell, my protective covering from the world. Well, it didn't actually shield me from much and it often got in the way, but I liked it. It was a pain to take care of and brush but it felt normal, right even. And now I don't look like myself. But I do kind of like my new hair. It just doesn't look like me. Or maybe doesn't look like me yet. And now, hopefully, some child somewhere (or maybe three or four children) with some unfortunate disease that will require baldness at some point can have some of my protective shell.