4th January, 2012
She left the braid that I cut off her hair on the floor of the bathroom. She had asked me to cut it. I told her to take it with her, to keep it, but she said that she wanted to throw it away, to let it go. In the shower, when she got irreparably upset with me, she stopped talking to me. I walked behind her around the house as she was getting dressed up and ready to leave, asking her to please speak to me.
When she left I went back to the bathroom and the braid was there, lying in the middle of the floor. I felt angry. Her leaving the braid there felt almost like she had left a part of her body that was now dead, a piece of her beauty that she had given me. But above all, the braid looked like the guilt that she wanted me to feel. So I threw it on the bin, swept the floor, and took the rubbish bag out of the flat.