The Only Time He Made Me Cry

The only time he ever made me cry was when he cut his hair.

I am not kidding.

I was dating his good friend at the time. He had long-ish hair, light brown with a very slight curl. I've never considered myself a "hair" type of girl but he had the hair of an Olympian god. He once mentioned he thought about cutting it. I freaked out, told him he couldn't. It would have been like destroying a piece of art. He would tease me about cutting it really short and I'd pout. It was weird. We were flirting with each other even though I was dating his friend.

I confess now I liked him more than his friend. There was just something about him that was so intriguing. He was smart, funny, and genuine. I loved being around him. I never thought we'd ever end up together since he was loyal to his friends. He'd never make a move on his friend's girl. 

One day I was walking out of the ELC on SUU campus. I was in the middle of a horrible, horrible day made worse by finding out I had failed my discrete mathematics exam. I was good at math. I knew I was good at math. But this class was kicking my ass. I was beginning to think I wasn't cut out to be a math major when I looked up and saw him. He had cut his hair. And not just cut, he buzzed his hair off. It was like he had enlisted in the army and he was prepared for boot camp. He looked at me with a mischievous  gleam in his rich blue eyes, waiting for my reaction.

I burst into tears. The day had been awful and seeing him without his gorgeous hair had tipped the scales. It was not the reaction he was expecting. He felt bad and came to comfort me. I ended up laughing at myself for being so silly. I explained to him that my day had been terrible. I wasn't just crying cause of his hair.

When his friend broke up with me, I was pretty upset. I was feeling ill at the time and homesick as well. I skipped my last classes and crawled into bed, not wanting to see anyone. He came in and asked if I was okay. I told him I wasn't. He didn't try to get me out of bed or to talk about anything. He just took off his shoes and got into bed with me. We just lied there. We'd occasionally talk but most of the time was spent in silence. I think that was the moment I knew he understood me better than pretty much everyone else.

We still talk occasionally. It's hard when we live three hours away. But the last time I saw him, his hair was long again. Not as long as it was when I first met him but it still looked great.

It's nice to know somethings will never change.

Love you.
Mean it.