I want to be that girl who moved at the beginning of September and created a blank slate. Who started over.
Even though she wasn’t as strong as I thought, she felt stronger then I am now.

I don’t cry on the floor of my living room anymore but I lay on my side wishing he would turn and put his arms around me and it feels the same.

I know it’s so simple.
The answer is obvious but even as I sit here thinking about it I still use my left hand to find the few remaining short hairs in my bangs and pull on them one at a time until they pop out.
In therapy last week I explained the process of how I decide which hair to pull and my therapist was fascinated by this.
I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment.
I just want to stop.
I hate that it feels impossible.
My hair is completely trashed and I am so ashamed of the mess I made.
I feel bad for my boyfriend that he’s dating this overly anxious loser with bald spots.
It’s not what he signed up for.

So I’m going to stop.
After I hit post I will not let myself even touch my head.
Just thinking about it now makes me want to do it so bad.