This morning, I found my first gray hair. If I were in my twenties, I’d probably be freaking out but as it is, I am well of age and thus aware of the changes a human body makes. Truth is, I’ve been expecting it a little. Most people my age already have it and I was actually surprised it didn’t arrive sooner. There’s a part of me that feels proud to have it. It’s not so noticeable that people will stop or anything but I know it’s there- like that small bottle of whiskey you would normally keep in your nightstand for little emergencies or a piece of cake at the very back of a diabetic’s refrigerator. It made me feel a little more human, I guess and for that simple fact, I decided not to pull it out.
I went back to our room and saw you sleeping. You have quite a few gray hairs yourself. I wonder how long it would take to count them all. Would they be equal to the number of years we’ve been together ergo the number of years I’ve been stressing you out? Would it be equal to all the times we fought and made up? Or would it equate to the number of things that made me love you? Nah, I’d have to bleach your whole head for that.
It’s funny how when I was younger, I never thought I would find you. I can’t recall how many times I told my friends I didn’t believe in love anymore because I was lonely. Or how many times I would meet someone and pray so hard that they would be the one. But they never were for they weren’t you. If I had known that all that would eventually lead me here, I wouldn’t have been such a sad kid.
They say the most jaded people are also the most romantic. It’s not that they woke up one day and stopped believing in love. No, it takes more than that. I’d like to think that they were once true believers. But love doesn’t come easy for anyone and all those years spent searching for it has a way of taking its toll on you. They didn’t stop believing in love. No one ever does. I think they just stopped believing it could happen to them. I should know. I felt that way for many years.
Thank you for changing my mind. In a world where it seems everyone is out to get me, you are the only exception. One day, I’ll have not a single black hair left. I can’t wait for that day to come. When it finally hits me that I’m old and rusty, I know you’ll be there with me, hand firmly placed in mine as I watch it go down the drain.
There are three types of people in the world. Some people want to turn back the hands of time. They want to go back to the time when they were happy or when things were simpler. Some people are so happy, they wish they could pause time. Who wouldn’t want to linger in the climax of your life? Myself, I wish I could sleep and wake up in the future. I spend my waking hours pushing the clock’s different hands. My remaining comfort, if anything is the thought that this part of my life is only temporary. One day, I’ll be happy too.
The Only Exception
Brand New Eyes