Spending the Last Day With My Hair

Remember the time when everyone thought you were just an extension? Yup I remember. I got into fights because of it and I made friends because of it. Everyone asked me, "How were you so long?" I normally would follow my Dad's story about how his side of family was blessed with hair because of the wonderful deeds our ancestor did. Remember when you changed color? The school captains thought it was because you were dyed in a different color. I almost got detention because of it. They didn't realize that you simply changed to the beat of the sweltering sun that rained on us. Not once have I ever though of putting you through a relaxer. But there is one thing I will never forget. My mom brushing you. She would sit there for hours, brushing, brushing and more brushing. My Dad always complained about the fact that I was being spoiled, but she never cared. I don't know if I'll see you again in your former glory. Since of late you have been dropping out of my head one by one. I even glued the clump that I pulled out by accident right back in. That's when my Dad said, "Naara, you need to get rid of you hair. It's doing more harm than good!! Sighs....I complain but I guess after reading some of the comments here, they are right. I need to let go. Sometimes when I think of letting you go I can hardly breathe. I won't have anything that represents my old life. But I just have one wish, if you come back in a years time, then I will do my out most best to look after you. I've made the appoint and now I wait.