The Knight of Wands . . . "I look older," I said.
"I can't," I said, standing in the kitchen in front of the pantry. "I can't face people today."
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Hibiscus was near the stove, heating up after his long hours out in the cold working to thaw the water system so that the houses without water would have water again. I was thankful we were not one of those houses. I was frustrated that it happened to be my man that took responsibility for those sorts of things.
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Paladin was on the couch. He had brought a hair dryer and hot tea out to Hibiscus to help with the endeavor.
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It was Sunday, the last day Hibiscus had off before he'd head out on another work trip. And while he was gone, I was heading out to Sunnyland to visit Nelum. My last weekend day with Hibiscus, and it was swallowed up between fixing up the water system and now, a Silverstag Eco Hamlet meeting.
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I had been planning on going, but now I shook my head. I was hungry, and yet all I wanted to eat was fruit. I was momentarily sworn off of fruit in an attempt to get my mouth to stop hurting, my breasts to stop hurting, my cravings to abate . . . it was working to some extent, but . . . I couldn't face anyone.
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I stalked back upstairs. I'd barely seen Hibiscus or Paladin all day - Valentine's day, no less - and now I wouldn't see them for another two to three hours while they attended the meeting and I didn't.
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I stripped off my clothes, talking to myself.
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"Why do I even care?" I asked myself. "What does any of it matter?"
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My overskirt, my two pairs of pants, my socks, my various shirts - all piling up in the fabric bins I used for "clothes to wear again before washing."
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"Why did I even get dressed?" I asked. I was speaking aloud, but I was alone in the room.
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"I wanted to see Hibiscus," I answered myself, pulling the blankets over my naked body. "I thought I was going to the meeting," I added.
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We'll be apart for more than ten days this time, I thought. And this was to be our last full day together.
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I felt my face crumple. Soundlessly, I shook. Tears slid down my face.
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"Why?" I asked aloud. Why does this hurt? What is the point?
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I felt baffled by life, baffled by my own emotions, baffled by my lack of direction. Existentialist thoughts flitted to and fro, too ephemeral to grasp and hold.
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"The Knight of Wands," I said aloud, my face smoothing. I dropped those words into the air like an anchor. I sat up slowly, my face still wet. The tears had stopped. Stillness overcame me.
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The Knight of Wands was the card I had pulled that morning when doing a tarot reading about my hair. I had imagining cutting my hair that day, and pulled a card full of sweet promise.
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I'd asked about waiting a week, a month, six months, and a year. I liked the Ten of Cups for waiting a month. Nelum could play with my dreadlocks if I kept them for a month. And Paladin could play with them while Hibiscus was on his work trip before I headed for Sunnyland. That made sense to me.
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I put my hands to my head and felt my dreadlocks. The Knight of Wands, I thought, now feeling resolve come over me. I grabbed a pair of scissors on the way to the mirror. I stood there looking at myself. I didn't really see myself. I saw an idea of myself - an image in my mind, a concept.
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I grabbed a dreadlock and cut it about three inches from the base. I blinked, a little shocked at the sight of the dreadlock's cut end. It looked ridiculous. My heart beat a little faster. My breathing sped just a little.
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I should have started in the back, I thought dimly, grabbing another and cutting it. Is that some fuzz from my head that hadn't been in the dreadlock? I wondered, looking at the hair I'd just cut. I resolved to be more careful and pushed the hair upward and away from the dreadlock with each subsequent cut.
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Half way through I swallowed, looking at myself in the mirror with horror. Cut-off dreadlocks look ridiculous, I thought. I should photograph myself so I can laugh at it later.
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I kept cutting. I didn't get out my camera. I pulled the ribbons off the cut dreadlocks. They didn't come off easily. I began picking at them, stunned at how difficult it was to pull them apart even a little.
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What could make this easier? I thought, feeling a little frantic. I wanted to be done with them by the time Hibiscus and Paladin returned.
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I filled the bath. I spent twenty minutes under the water pulling apart a single dreadlock stub on the back of my head. I dried off, went down to the kitchen, grabbed the bottle of olive oil and brought it upstairs. I began filling the tub again.
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I poured my hand full of olive oil and took the oil to my head. I repeated this process over and over until my entire head was slathered. I returned to the tub and continued pulling the hairs out of my dreadlocks, a few hairs at a time. Another fill of the tub, a shower, and two towels later I was nearly half done. It was going five-thirty and I expected Hibiscus and Paladin back any time.
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I sat at my computer and wrote a little to rest my fingers, getting olive oil all over my mouse and keyboard:
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. . .
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Thoughts:
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Afterward, I could clean them thoroughly, fix them up, and eventually dread them back onto my head, and I could do a better job next time.
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I'll be free of myself. Free of my attachments, literally.
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I'll be lighter.
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There is no point in being beautiful. Nobody cares. Even if Hibiscus does care, he'll find me more beautiful without the dreadlocks.
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I want to finish taking these things out before they get back from the meeting, but my fingers are so sore, and I'm not sure I'm even half way done.
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No regrets. I'm glad I tried having dreadlocks.
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I thought perhaps dreadlocks would mean less pain. Afterall, no hair-brushing. But when I split that large dreadlock into three dreads, or now, while taking them out, gods there is way more pain than I ever had while merely brushing my hair!
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. . .
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Hibiscus knocked on my door at five-forty-five. He came in and found me naked, sitting on a towel with my head bent forward over a paper bag beside the bed. He took a second to realize what I was doing and then grinned. I looked up at him sheepishly, not stopping my work.
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"At least you're smiling," I said. "That's good."
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His grin broadened and he sat beside me on the bed. I peered up at him while continuing to pull hairs out of the dreadlock-stub.
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Paladin came in within a minute. I looked up at him nervously, still not stopping my busy fingers. I didn't look away.
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"Oh," he breathed. I could see he was a little afraid. "Oh," he said again. He wasn't smiling. He looked stunned. He came and sat beside me.
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"Do you still love me?" I asked tentatively.
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"Yes," Paladin said.
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"Even without my dreadlocks?" I asked, my voice sounding young and high-pitched.
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"Yes," Paladin said.
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Hibiscus laughed, putting his face into his hands.
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"What is it?" I asked.
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"I heard you ask that before you even asked it," Hibiscus said.
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"I'm predictable," I said sheepishly.
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Paladin hugged me.
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"You see," Hibiscus said, "He still loves you."
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Paladin looked a question at Hibiscus.
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"She seemed to think you wouldn't," Hibiscus said.
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I thought back. Yes, I had expressed as much to Hibiscus, months ago. I'd mentioned how I'd thought about cutting my hair back while we were traveling in the east. I'd mentioned Paladin's response: "Are you trying to sabotage our relationship?"
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Hibiscus had misunderstood and thought this meant that Paladin felt so strongly about having my hair. Rather, Paladin had taken in my dismal tone and concluded that my only possible motive for wanting to cut my hair was to try and drive him away.
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That had taken place on August 2nd, 2015, not long after seeing Oryx for the first time in many months while we were in the east. That same day I had throw my water glass in anger and felt shocked for having done so. I'd broken my glass straw, but the mason jar had stayed in tact. It was that day I knew that I would eventually dreadlock my hair. Three months later, I did.
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And then, there were numerous dreadlock conflicts.
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And now, I was pulling my hair free from the cut-off dreadlock stubs.
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"Can I help?" Hibiscus asked.
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"Yes," I breathed. I'd already been at it for close to three hours. My pointer-fingers were so sore that I've moved on to using my middle fingers as the primary fingers for prying the hairs loose.
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Paladin tried to help too, but predictably, he had very little stamina for it. At eight o'clock we took a break and I made us salads. Then Hibiscus read aloud to me while I worked on it some more. It was after ten o'clock when it was finally finished.
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Seven hours, including the thirty-minute break to make a salad. Four of those hours had at least two pairs of hands working on my head. And that was even with the advantage of having cut the dreadlocks fairly short before taking out the stubs. I'd done a damn good job of making tight dreads.
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I was nervous to face myself in the mirror, but I didn't hesitate to do so. I was impatient to discover what my "new me" looked like.
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Astonished, I was beautiful.
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"Were I ignorant to how your hair got to be this way, I'd think you had a very good professional cut your hair," Hibiscus said. "It looks quite intentional."
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He was right. It did. Elegant bangs framed my face. Longer tendrils whimsically layered the sides of my head and my neck. Voluminous, flowing - my hair looked great. The shape complimented the shape of my face nicely.
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It was hard to admit it aloud, so I just nodded and smiled. I honored the part of me that grieved by not entirely falling into the relief I felt. Paladin held my grief for me. In a moment we shared together while Hibiscus got himself a snack, Paladin's eyes filled with tears and he held me tight.
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"I know you wanted dreadlocks so very much," he said.
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I nodded. Tears touched my eyes too.
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Hibiscus didn't restrain his enthusiasm at all. "It's like I have a new girlfriend!" he exclaimed. It delighted me that he was so pleased. I noticed right away that he touched my hair more often.
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Looking in the mirror I said, "I look older." I turned from one side to the other, studying myself critically. "I felt like the long hair made me look like I was twenty-one or twenty-two. I feel like I look my age now."
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Hibiscus looked at me, a smile in his eyes. "It is hard for me to compare directly to the long hair you had when I met you, but I feel that the dreadlocks externalized your inner-child, making the transition to this much more dramatic."
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I nodded in complete agreement.
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The following day Hibiscus said to me, "I have to keep reminding myself that I'm not cheating on Nuria - or at least upsetting Nuria by acquiring a new girlfriend."
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I grinned. Later, he went on, "I don't need to go find anyone new and novel. You are new and novel." That was a comment about my hair, but along similar lines he'd been telling me over the past few weeks: "You're always changing. I know with you I'll never get bored. You're not the same person from month to month, or even hour to hour. I love that."
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From autumn to winter I'd had butt-length long hair, dreadlocks, dreadlocks with ribbons, and then short pixie-like hair. I found that I actually felt more like myself at the end of it. No regrets. Just one of many beautiful transitions.