Thursday, October 23, 2008

When Disaster Strikes

So I had my hair cut and as usual, I regret it now. It’s too late. It’s cut. I cannot do anything but to blame myself. It’s already down there the trash can, mingling with the expired vegetable and cheese. I cannot have it back. It’s gone. I have to live with this.

It was exactly a year ago when I had my last haircut. From then, I decided not to cut my hair anymore because of the stupid traumatic experience. I just cannot accept it. I’ve been perfectly careful so as not to ruin my crowning glory (this includes the proper maintenance like hair spa and hot oil) then one mistake destroyed it all. I really regret it and I was unhappier because I trusted a gay to take control when all the while, I know that we have different perceptions about beauty. It gave me the feeling that I took care of my hair then he obliterated it.

It was a year ago and I cannot imagine that I lived my everyday wearing different kinds of headband and clips just to hide my haircut… and now (I mean, just minutes before I started typing), it was back to being long and silky. (Honestly, I rejoiced upon realizing that and I started holding my hair then waving it then curling it then combing it.) My mom, being so allergic to girls with long hair, instructed me to go to the salon and have my hair cut, or if not totally cut, at least, trim. She told me that it was not that perfect and healthy so I should trim all those imperfections (particularly the split ends). The fourth commandment of God says that we should obey and honor our parents and so I followed even though I was very hesitant.

I instructed the beautician to trim my hair. She asked how long then I answered, just cut one inch from it. I waited, hoping that she’ll follow what I said and after some sounds from the scissors, it was done. She cut about five inches from my hair (Geez! I think she’s deaf!). The moment I saw it, I wanted to cry, partly because I have to wait for my hair to grow long again and partly because of my could-have-been. I really was regretful.

I went home and in my sadness, I thought of the cycle and some paradoxes of life. I marveled and realized that this is neither the first nor the second time it actually happened. This occurred to me, numerous times already and each time, I’ll still give my 100 percent trust to the beautician, hoping that she or he will eventually make me happy and prove me that not all beauticians are the same, that at least one them understands what I mean by cut just an inch from it then I will end up convincing myself that the worst haircut, sooner or later, will grow, that what I am supposed to do is just to wait and being sorry or regretful won’t do me any good. It happens to me all of the times and still, I give in, not applying the lessons I’ve learned the last time. Maybe I am stubborn or the positive side, I just trust people the way I want to be trusted that I won’t do them any harm and as much as possible, I try to keep them happy.

Sigh. I promise, this is the last haircut. I won’t risk again. Sigh. No, I won’t.

I am not the one on the picture.


Mei said...

haha dapat sis di ka nagtrust sa mga gay haha yan tuloy nasira hair mo thats why lessen lang ako magpar hair treatment kasi haha.ANo na itsura ng hair mo ngayon sis?

Rhaingel said...

hehe. oo nga eh. next time, I won't. promise. hehe. my hair's a bit fine now, at least I'm trying to convince that the worst haircut eventually grows. Before, it was waist-long, but now, it's above the shoulder. You know, bob. (err. sob.) BTW, thanks for dropping by. :)

Missy said...

That picture is Lol

Rhaingel said...

MISSY: haha. I found it in yahoo and thought that it's perfect for my blog post. BUT IT'S NOT ME. :D