Dear Diary...
Today I shaved off my beard. I no longer look old enough to buy alcohol, and my Aragorn-rating has dropped to the low levels normally associated with a hobbit's feet (which are, incidentally, now much hairier than my face).
I'm feeling kinda vulnerable right now, there's this sense of loss that I can't readily define. I tried petting my chin to calm myself, but it's not working anymore. I got so panicky that I went outside to buy a drink. After braving the weather (which was somehow harsher and more chilling than normal) I was asked for ID. For a coffee.
*sighs*
It's difficult to describe this pain, of growing and nurturing something that you love, the sense of loss mixed with triumph. I don't think a woman could ever understand this feeling. I tried to bridge the gap, but when I called my mother to talk about it she laughed.
.......... hold me.
I'm feeling kinda vulnerable right now, there's this sense of loss that I can't readily define. I tried petting my chin to calm myself, but it's not working anymore. I got so panicky that I went outside to buy a drink. After braving the weather (which was somehow harsher and more chilling than normal) I was asked for ID. For a coffee.
*sighs*
It's difficult to describe this pain, of growing and nurturing something that you love, the sense of loss mixed with triumph. I don't think a woman could ever understand this feeling. I tried to bridge the gap, but when I called my mother to talk about it she laughed.
.......... hold me.