Saying goodbye to little things you thought might make you happy, when happiness was something else entirely

From a mass coupon mailing, I found an image of a beautiful woman with long, curly, red hair. I decided, then, as an 7 year old, that I would look like her the day of my wedding.

The thought was fleeting, but after high school, when the prospect of marriage was more plausible, I couldn't bring myself to cut my hair.

On valentine's day four years ago a pot of daisies was delivered to my doorstep, with a note that read "Jordan" in a boy's handwriting. That was all. As I was lacking a green thumb, the daisies quickly died, until I promised myself the day they were reborn I'd fall in love and get married (I'd been reading one too many princess-themed, children novels like Ella Enchanted). A stem or two were born again--and died again just the same. Then I moved home for a semester, and the daisies were thrown away.

I cut my hair today.

And, I don't think I'd ever like to have long hair again.