So maybe it wasn't always the most exciting of relationships. The truth is, it's been good for me - safe and dependable, and I've had nothing to complain about. Or nothing major, anyway.
It's been a good ride, these past few months, and I've been content. Grateful, even. It's been interesting getting to know someone new, learning to trust, putting faith in someone else again. But the passion of novelty soon wore off and I was left feeling just...comfortable.
I don't know how to say this other than by the most direct means: I was with someone else. I cheated. I am a cheater, and the worst kind because I knew it was wrong but I did it anyway.
And now I'm marinating in a thick broth of guilt, as I deserve to be, and I'm contemplating what it will mean to confess. I am not by nature a dishonest person but the stress of my sins has me reaching for an arsenal of justifications that I know full well are self-serving bullshit. So what if I was unhappy? Is that an excuse? In the light of day, it seems a very poor one. I could have\should have ended things honourably, but instead I've become this deceitful person who shared her secrets with someone else, let someone else touch her shivery spot at the back of her neck.
And you know what keeps me up at night?
It was good.
It was damn good.
It was better than I'd been fantasizing about, better than I've had in a while. I know it isn't fair to compare but yes - better.
If I'm going to end it anyway (and that's certainly my intention, once I find the balls), is there any point to coming clean? Would I be doing it for my benefit, or for his? Can't I just spare him this hurt, and spare myself from being branded a holy-awful-disgusting-disappointment? There's a bit part of me, the coward part, telling me to avoid the conflict and just let the relationship ...trail off.
I know, I know, it's my own goddamned fault. I did this to myself. I turned my back on the gentle soul who has been faithfully and lovingly caring for my hair since that fateful day back in August when nobody else was open. I've let another man shampoo me, wisp my bangs, rub serum on my roots. I can't take it back, even if I wanted to, but with highlights like these, it's hard to feel remorse.
The hair knows what it wants and will break hearts to get it. I'm sorry to see a relationship end of course but these shiny, lustrous tresses deserve to be adored, and I'm glad they've met their match.
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