Dear Person.

Dear Person,
Everything changed once. Yet again it has...maybe for the better?


3. Diary entry 3- (Morning. Snip, Snip.)

"I don't want to wake up, I don't want to wake up, I'm not waking up!" is the chant going on in my head.  I'm guessing it's still evening, I can't tell my blinds are closed.  I want to keep my eyes shut but their opening.  It's not fair, I have no say in how long I can sleep.  My body is choosing for me.  Like always I comply and wake up.  Oddly I hear the whistle of a steaming pot.  How can that be? Grandma should be asleep. I never wake up after her, Strange.  What time is it anyway?  Grabbing my phone from my side table I light up the screen.  "What? 9:30 A.m.? How is that possible?", I think.  I scratch my head, it doesn't feel clammy.  I don't feel sweaty either.  9:30 a.m. I'm not tired, I'm not waking up scared or restless.  Did I really sleep last night? "Yes", my mind mimics to me.  Stretching my arms I feel the blood pump through my veins.  This is real! Immediately, I spring from my bed and run to my desk.  My computer starts up, as I wait I throw my hair back into a ponytail.  I'm baffled, how did I sleep so well?  Ecstatic is what I am, It's probably the best thing that has happened to me in months.  My computer is on, I log in and let my fingers do all the talking.

Dear Person,
    I guess therapy worked.  Amazing how one session would create such an effect.  I didn't want to wake up this morning because I thought it was still evening.  To my surprise it was 9:30 a.m.!  I can't lie, I didn't want to wake from my dream.  I had been going over all the scenarios that could've happened between me and Issac.  It was a perfect moment, of course.  I just regret not getting his number.  I'm a chicken shit, I'd never have the lady balls to ask for anyone's number.  But, maybe that's my problem? I don't have guts.  Maybe, if I tried to gain courage I wouldn't feel so self conscience.  I've just sparked an idea!  If I change my image, if I act the way I want to feel maybe I can counter act my never changing attitude?  Am I going crazy because I got one nights sleep? Or am I finally clear minded? I couldn't care less if I'm going crazy or not!

Here's my idea:
I've always had the same "pushover" attitude.  My hair has never been longer or shorter than my shoulder blades.  I do the same thing everyday.  I'm eighteen and haven't gotten my ears pierced.  Why have I held back so much? I think it's time for a change...

The computer is filled with my minds words.  I lean in, looking closely.  I look the same as I do everyday.  Brown hair, pale skin, no make-up, no piercings or tattoos and the same weight as always.  I save the document and close the computer.  The wooden floor is still cold from the morning.  I let my feet pat against the floor as I open the door to my bathroom.  There is a drawer full of magazines, with style tips.  "You're going to do this! Wait, you are? You sure? Talk to grandma maybe? No, fuck that she'll say no. DO IT! You know what to do. You've wanted to before. Grandma will put you in therapy. You're 18! Just fuck'n do it! Issac might be at therapy. Who cares what anyone thinks. Go ahead. Break your damn shell!!!!" All my thoughts flutter, conflicting.  I open a magazine that has a how to on home hair cuts.  Soon enough, I pick up the scissors out of a small side drawer.  My hair is in sections.  I grab the first section, "SNIP" I watch the chunk of hair fall to the floor.  I stare at the hair then the mirror, "Welcome to the world Jo", my mind boasts and gives a congratulatory smile back at me. 

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