“…and in the spring, I shed my skin, and it blows away with the changing wind”
so, I’ve cut off all my hair
well,
most of my hair
again
It’s spring time in honolulu and I, am changing
I’ve done a lot over the past 18 months, and it’s safe to say that, time is, in fact, an illusion, and that more can change in 6 months than ever may have in 3 years
I’ve been struggling with my break up with Bryan for almost two years now, but, I feel, in the last three weeks, better than I have in a long time.
I’d like to say that it wasn’t entirely THAT SPECIFIC relationship that lead me to having such a hard time bouncing back, and I believe that’s mostly true.
There were many thoughts that I’ve had about the topic, lots of thinking, and crying, frustration and sadness, bittersweet thoughts and “a-ha” moments. But, it wasn’t until I cut off my hair, that I feel like I really, physically, let go of those burdens. Burdens and baggage that I’ve been carrying with me for over two years now. Many times, when I’m looking back, I feel like the time I spent in Australia was such, to be completely cliche, a blur. And it really was. I ran away to Australia. I really did. Now, I may not have been running away from facing a problem, but I was definitely running. I was running for safety, I was running for shelter. I was running away to find a place to call my own, to be alone, to be free and feel me. To “find myself” and, it’s funny, because, I recall having a very particular conversation with a friend while I was out there and saying “I’m not just trying to find myself or anything.” Little did I know…and, in all honesty, I didn’t find myself in Australia at all. But I definitely lost myself there. I lost what “I was,” who I was, all of the preconceived notions, the implied associations, the old “me” that seemed so entirely unescapable in Indianapolis, constantly surrounded by reminders, people, and places, that all carried with them this “stigma” of “Claire Hodge.” This Claire Hodge that I just didn’t want to be anymore. This old skin that just, didn’t fit me. So, I left. I ran. I ran far. Far as hell. And I sheltered, for a year. Living in a place with a different accent, a different job, driving on the opposite side of the road. Doing everything I could to be whoever I felt I was. I took classes, I went on trips, I road a train, I listened to music, I drank gross beer, I smoked some weed, I made good friends and, in the end, it happened so fast, and I’d been back in the US for 3 months before I even really realized it. and it’s taken a good 5 months after that for me to even sit down and right more then 3 fragmented sentences about what the fuck happened over there. or, more importantly, what’s happening right here. what’s happening with me. I cry as I right this line, and come to the realization that Australia, was for me, and that’s all you need to know. And Hawaii, well, that’s for me too, but, I can say that I’m feeling safer now, and more secure, and perhaps I can share it all with you but chances are, I might not, and that’s fine too. I love, a lot, and feel, a lot, and though I would love to be able to share every moment with all of you, sometimes, you just can’t. And, I’m learning, that sometimes, you’re just, not supposed to. I had the most amazing experiences of my life on that Island, and continue to be in awe of the ones I’m having on this one now, and that alone is all I need to know. If you’re interested, ask me, and I’ll tell you the things that I can. But nothing will ever compare to living it, and sometimes, stories, even MINE, just don’t do it justice. So here’s to life, and living it, and cutting off your hair to feel clean again.
Cheers Mate
