Hair Dresser

𝗡𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴:
“Be Yourself – Audioslave” ★
01:22 ━━━━●───── 04:16
ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ↻ ♡

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Following Thanksgiving break, Carmona and I texted every single day. Every morning. Every night. I spent more time with him than I did with my own mother. I’d even go as far as to say I probably knew more about him than I knew about myself. Actually… scratch that. Everything I knew about myself, I knew because of him. Carmona liked anime, I loved anime. Carmona liked Arizona Tea, I love Arizona Tea. I could keep going, but I think you get the point. My muse… his mirror… his friend… my everything. 

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Between the months of December and March everything was perfect; if I had to estimate, I’d say we probably exchanged 12,000 texts in between those four months. Suddenly my family life improved. I wasn’t crying or keeping myself isolated in my room, except of course when I was. As long as I got those two buzzes on my phone indicating that he sent me a text I was able to mask the disdain I had for the other people close to me. 

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When we weren’t together, I was planning out the conversations we would have when we were. When we were together, I was studying how he responded to what I said so I’d know what to plan for next time. Every second of every day of every moment, he was all I thought about. He was perfect. Well… an ass at times. And those times were when he talked to other people. Other girls. But it was okay. I wasn’t just another girl. I was him.

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We started spending all our time together; sat together before school started, walked each other to class, ate lunch together, we were practically attached at the hip. I spent so much time with him that I stopped being able to differentiate where he ended and where I began.  My accent changed, my slang, my clothes, my hair, who was I? I couldn’t answer. I lost myself to the point where I couldn’t be alone. Couldn’t be away from him. I could have all the friends in the world, but if he wasn’t there then I didn’t exist. You can’t be a reflection if no one is standing in front of the mirror. Maybe that scared him. I didn’t care.