Dear M,
Looking out my window
You can’t believe how small people look from a distance.
Maybe that’s where we lost- the distance between you and me.
You couldn’t see how big I was.
Except for my thighs.
You were never too shy to point out my flaws.
As you can see, years have passed,
but I’m still the same drama queen.
That’s what you said, right?
Before you left.
“You are such a drama queen.”
Well, at least you said queen…
I cut my hair.
My hair was the thing you liked about me the most.
You would always say:
“I love your hair.”
Maybe even more times than you said:
“I love you.”
So, yeah.
I cut it.
But really, it wasn’t against you.
Why would it be?
It’s my hair.
They were my scissors.
That’s a lie.
They were your scissors.
Do you want them back?
Then you should come.
I’m still living in the same apartment.
Do you remember it?
The one on the 5’th floor.
Oh boy.
How small must I have been seen from a distance?
With resentment,
B.
Dear B,
I have often thought about you
since I came to this little town.
You would really like the people here,
And the silence.
The silence here is magnificent;
it is not like anywhere I’ve been.
You would get bored immediately though.
I’m pretty sure
you would cut your hair
If you were here, too.
It’s one of those places
That you want a change
every 30 minutes,
Until you embrace the slowness.
It took me a couple of months
which felt like years.
I hope you cut your hair ear length.
Anything shorter,
or slightly longer
I can’t even look at I am afraid.
I am sorry if this came out rude.
But you know how I feel about medium length hair.
I don’t quite remember
calling you a ‘‘drama’’ queen.
Please forgive me
Even if I used it in the right context.
As it seems,
I managed to find a top-floor apartment
in one of the tallest buildings
in this small town.
People look even smaller
From where I stand now.
But I just realized that
They don’t even look up
To see how small I am.
You were small but visible.
I am not even that anymore.
You can keep the scissors.
Wishing you the best,
M.