Love Love Love...

Tiny drops of water drip from my hair and land on my bare shoulders as I stand in front of my open closet, staring at it’s contents. I’ve wrapped a towel tightly around my bare torso as if I’m expecting my insides to spill out of me. There are so many options. My hands reach out to investigate the various dresses that line the inside of the closet, stopping on one in particular. It’s the dress I wore Easter Sunday. My fingers slide down the length of it and think about that day.
“Daddy. I like this boy.” I whispered to my father, watching Rob talk to my cousin across the room. We’re at my grandmother’s waiting to eat lunch after church. My dad and I leaning against the counter.
“Yeah? He’s got really good manners.” Dad nods.
“I know! It’s amazing…” I grin.
“You two seem very comfortable together.” My mom tells me later on. “I like his voice. It’s very calming.”
“It is!” I laugh, thinking I was the only one who noticed that.
Later that evening Rob and I are eating sushi. Besides one other couple we’re the only people there and it’s perfect. I’m grinning at him from across the table, sake removing my usual word filter.
“What?” he smiled.
“Nothing.” I giggled, raising the glass to my lips again. He looks at me as if he doesn’t believe me.
“It’s something.” he says.
“I just want to tell you…” I’m having a hard time forming the words. I know what I want to say, I’m just afraid of his reaction. “…that I’m falling in love with you.” There. I said it.
A smile slowly spreads across his face.
My fingers trace another dress and the memory leaves me. I quickly decide on jeans and a jacket and leave it at that. I straighten my hair, put on enough make up to appear human and walk out the door.
“I didn’t know you were a compulsive overeater!” Kristen exclaims after I settle into the break room with her, waiting on my first client.
“I thought I told you that. Did you read my blog?”
“Yup. I always read them.”
“Really!” I light up.
“Of course. Lots of people do.”
“Really?!” This makes my entire day.
She smiles and nods.
“Everybody has something.” she states, going back to my eating disorder. She’s right. Everyone has their own issues or behaviors that they aren’t necessarily proud of. It makes things more colorful.
I nod. “I have a confession.” I tell her but I’m looking at the wall, not blinking. She waits for me to speak.
Kristen has always been one of those people I can open up to without fear. She’s an esthetician and I was her client well before I started working at Salonred. There is something very special about her that I can’t quite put my finger on but she’s always been there for me, saying the perfect thing at the perfect time.
“Food has been ok. I just feel myself using something else and I’m scared of it.”
“Well.” she begins. “At least you can see what’s going on. It’s all a distraction. You just went through something really traumatic and your brain is trying to regroup.”
I am in denial that this experience is as intense as it is. I am arrogant in the fact that I think I can do this on my own. I hear what she’s saying and I understand it, it’s just not quite sinking in as far as it needs to go. Which of course makes me wonder if I’m still in shock and the real storm hasn’t yet washed over me.
“Lots of things can happen. Sometimes you need to explore the negative to get the reinforcement that you need to follow the path that’s positive and stay on it.”
I nod.
“You’ve done a really positive thing by writing. It’s so amazing how you’ve opened up to the world like you have. I know Rob is right there with you reading every word and he’s so proud. He’s so proud of you.”
Before either of know it we’re both crying. I’m the luckiest person on this planet to know such special people. Kristen’s client arrives the same time mine is ready from color and we’re both trying to get composed. When I’ve taken all the deep breaths I can take I go out to see Traci. I love her and I’ve missed her tremendously, I’m just out of energy. ‘For forty five minutes.’ I remind myself. ‘All I have to do is focus for forty five minutes, until the next forty five minutes.’
As I section and cut her hair, I hear her words and even find myself laughing with her but I don’t know why I’m laughing and my eyes are flooded again with tears. Where is this coming from? How is it that I’m laughing and crying at the same time when I don’t even know why either are happening? I hear my voice ask her questions but I don’t know where the words are coming from. It’s all a dream.
After lunch Sarah and I are walking back to the salon after getting coffee.
“So what’s going on with Chicago?” she asks.
“I don’t know yet. I can’t think about it.”
“Are you just letting life lead you?”
“Yes! That’s exactly right! How come people can’t get that? All my plans have fallen away and I’m just trying to calm down and see what happens.”
“Sometimes, you just have to do that. Stop making plans and just see where things go.” she replies.
I am so grateful that someone understands without me having to spell it out.
My next client brings up my ‘vacation.’ She was trying to get in last week.
“Did you go somewhere fun?” she asks.
“I stayed here.” I replied, wondering if I could get out of telling the story of why I was out.
“Oh…”
I change the subject asking about her Memorial Day.
“How’s your boyfriend doing?” Another client asks.
“Um…” I tell the story again, then absorbing all the “Melissa, I’m so sorry’s.” I don’t know what to say but thank you. I can barely open and close the blades of my shears I’m so overwhelmed.
“So how’s your engineer?” One of my long time clients asks later in the afternoon.
“Uh… well…” I stammer. Somebody please do this for me!!!
“Uh oh. What happened? He asks in a tone that insinuates Rob and I broke up.
“Rob was killed in an accident last month.” I blurt out.“What?!” he exclaims.
I nod. My skin begins to heat up and my head is swimming. Everything is spinning and I stop cutting. I can’t look at him, I can’t keep cutting, and I can’t breathe.
“What happened?”
I inhale and tell him in a very matter of fact manner what happened. It’s as if I turn into something else entirely when explaining the details.
“I’m so sorry. That’s awful.” he says. Over and over he says it. “You must still be in shock.”
“I guess.” I feel the heat under my skin disappear and I begin cutting again.
“I’m just so sorry.”
“Thank you.” I finish his hair in record time and disappear into the break room.
I have to explain the story one more time after him to my second to last client. She reminds me to take care of myself.
“Take all the time you need honey. Do whatever you need to do for yourself.”
“I was thinking about that today.” I smile at her. “A lot of people have told me that, and I feel like I am. Why can’t we do that all the time? Why can’t we always do what we need to do for ourselves all the time?”
“That’s a good question. I guess as women we’re always trying to please everyone and do whatever everyone else wants.”
“I agree.” I decide that from this moment on, I’ll continue to do things for myself and if other folks don’t like it, it’s not my problem. I am not responsible for anyone but myself.
My day ends and I’m full of nervous energy. When I get home I tear off my work clothes and quickly pull on my running gear and fly out the door, up Drewry and onto N. Highland. In no time I’m crossing Ponce and North Ave. My legs stretch further, going faster and faster until my lungs can’t keep up. Maybe if I go fast enough I’ll escape my own head. I make it to I-75 and turn around racing back home, never slowing down. Can someone please explain it to me? What is happening? Who the hell am I and where am I going?