Cut it.
Cut it, they had said. Let it fall to the ground as golden waves and watch as it curls into nothing more than a fragile memory.
Erase him.
After all, enough time has gone by and I need to accept that the past isn't coming back for me.
Ever...? Never.
But I don't want to let go of it. I can't. If I close my eyes, I can still feel the ghost of his fingers trailing over my skin, burning his long-dead affection into my scalp like ignorantly cruel iron rods dipped in hostile love.
Damage deeper... please.
I reached up to run my own cold hands through the strands that clung so desperately to my head; pleading to stay. To remember. His hands were softer than mine now were, infinitely kinder too.
Had he ever meant to scar me so badly?
Yes.
He must have, I knew, from the way his eyes sparked in glee at each of our wordless passings. How he'd never hold back a ruthlessly radiant grin whenever he knew that I was looking.
Yes, he knew he was still hurting me, but we both know that I deserve it.
So I can't cut it.
Not yet. I will wait until the strands turn grey with age and fall from my form as slowly, my life and his touch fade from me.
But until then, I need it to keep hurting. Keep reminding. They don't understand — Hell, I don't think he even understands what's he's done. It doesn't matter really.
Can't cut it.
YOU ARE READING
Can anybody hear me?
Short StoryA series of short stories. - Based on the emotions I feel and the ideas I have but can't seem to explain. - The attached image will usually give some context to the writing but it's up to your own interpretation:) - Discontinuous chronology. - NOT m...
