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I sit at Lovely, drink a huge Americano and write. I thought it would feel weird without Charlie here but it’s ok. It’s like he’s out of town for a while. I do still look up every time I hear the door through, half expecting him to enter. I did this even when he really was out of town, always hoping that whoever was entering was him.
I fill the pages of my journal with all the insanity that’s been waiting to be unleashed. I don’t hold back, I let my head run free through the swamp of all the nastiness and then when I’m finished (for now) I “clean” myself off and get on with my day.
I run and run and run. It’s amazing. I remember that sixteen mile run I went for after Rob died and how it hurt and was rather long but completely amazing. One day, I want to try it again.
I get cleaned up and head up to Wicker Park for class. I’m walking at the speed of light. I can’t wait to see Annie, to be with everyone and to happily sink my fingers and shears into wet hair.
I pull open the heavy door and Annie’s the first face I see.
“Mama!” she beams walking toward me, arms open wide.
“Hi!” I run toward her like I used to do with all my friends when I was in elementary and middle school.
We plow into each other and I feel the tears start to fall. Not because I’m sad, but because I feel so much relief and love and have missed it so much.
“C’mere.” she pulls away, smiling at my wet face.
Again, in the break room, everything spills out of me. When I’m done talking she examines my face again.
“You’re different. Like, more open.”
I laugh. “I totally feel that way! It’s incredible! I don’t feel scared of everything all the sudden and I’m actually ok being myself simply because I deserve to be. I don’t know what happened.”
She hugs me again and we walk back out the floor and set up for class.
“Ok you guys!” Mel exclaims. She and Tara, another educator are standing up at the front of the salon with a chair positioned to face all of us who are now seated in a semi circle in front of it. “Theory today is going to be on consultations. We’re going to do a little role playing to strengthen your consultation skills and help you with any issues you might run into.”
Minutes later I’m standing with my co-worker Yeefah in the chair trying to not only remember all the “right” questions to ask but come up with something for her hair. I’m feeling completely incapable of this task right now. I stumble a little and once we’re through it Mel says to me, “Melissa, I need you to be more confident.”
I need me to be more confident too. I want to tell her to hang on a second, I’ll get better, it’s going to happen, I’m just now getting around to standing up again and dusting myself off.
“Ok, you guys switch.” Mel instructs.
It’s my turn to sit in the chair. Yeefah begins asking me questions. I’m supposed to be a “wishy-washy client, never giving a straight answer.
“So tell me, what do you do for a living?” she asks me.
“I…work from home.” I reply, thinking about writing my book. An image of Charlie in his chair by his living room window pops in my head.
“Oh! What do you do?”
I glance at Annie. She’s beaming and answers for me “She’s an author.”
My heart fills as I swear she just read my mind. I want it. There is nothing stopping me. I can have it. I don’t know how yet but I’m going to keep at it…
Later Mel hugs me and says “I didn’t mean to pick on you earlier.”
I laugh. “You’re not picking on me! It’s true!” I hug her again and go to my station. What I don’t say is all the crap that happened at Van Michael in Atlanta and how I was never taught to have any sort of confidence behind the chair. I let my clients run the show because somehow I believed everyone knew better than me. How this happened when I’m the one that trained for all of this I don’t know. Art+Science has helped rebuild or actually I should say they’ve given me the confidence I currently posses to perform better behind my chair, to take control, make decisions and not be afraid.
I also refrain from telling her that I lost myself completely in my relationship and am now trying to get back to figuring out who I am.
“Melissa, you’re first one is here.” Nyssa, the receptionist tells me as I’m finishing some oatmeal in the break room.
“Thanks lady!” I reply. I quickly wash my bowl and head out to the floor to get this day started.
A couple of hours later a fellow couch surfer Darrick is in my chair. Immediately we have an insane, intense conversation. He’s way younger than me but has had so many experiences and shares his feelings so openly and honestly that it overwhelms me in the best way.
He’s a musician, writing his own songs. I talk about my blog, about Rob and about the novel I’ve been pecking at. He listens intently, without judgment and shares his own story. Talking to him is like applying a soothing balm to an open, aggravated wound. We agree to get coffee sometime soon.
After packing up my things, I meet Seven and several other co-workers around the corner at a fabulous little pizza place. It’s packed but I don’t mind like I usually do. I’m happy to be with everyone and am wondering where this is coming from. I actually want to be out? Who is this girl?
We all talk and laugh and eat deliciousness. One of my educators gives me a ride home. I stay up and write until midnight, unable to sleep. I need to get back to writing my novel but my journal is begging for attention right now. One of these days everything will be balanced again…