I'll shave my head.

I remember when I was in love with you. I decided to duplicate every feature I liked about you and reciprocate it onto myself. It started the day I met you, I went to your house and I saw your/your parent’s vinyl collection. Lots of 80's oriented music; some French lounge music and a couple of Reggae mix ups. There was also a little contemporary amongst the dusty discs of nostalgia that was mainly your own personal collection. I was fascinated and when I got home I spent over £67 worth of vinyl, trying to remember the ones you specifically put on and commented about. It took about seventeen days for them all to arrive, and thank god I was blessed with my parents Hi-Fi in the living room as I played them all consecutively on a Summer's Sunday, some of the music was utter bull, however I convinced myself that it was good music I was listening too and kept bopping my head to the stereotypical tempos of each song. If a song was really bad I remember speeding up the RPM so that it was more entertaining to listen to, and it also meant that the slow decaying of my ears could be saved for another bat-screeching event in the future. The next stage was when I decided to tag along with you and your friends when you went to town. I stayed right by you left hand side, and tried not to move away from you for any longer than thirty seconds as I was paranoid that you would forget I was there. I had a terrible time. You all fannied about in the men's sections of shops and instead of getting a sandwich or have a good meal deal (3 for 2 on selected items you fucker!) at M&S you all hopped, skipped and jumped to the nearest Maccy D's. Although I made sure to convince myself I was having fun as you were there. At the end of the day you walked me home, because I made sure to stay with you all in the park 'til late. You offered me a fag as we walked, and I remember the intoxicating smell of weed and tobacco smouldered into your jumper when you hugged me, so I said yes. I coughed the first time, but when you said it was 'cute' I decided that I would carry on smoking, as to have more in common with you. So after school, down by the river, in the back garden behind the shed at home, I smoked. I wanted to get used to it so that I could be the one to offer you a fag the next time we had a late night stroll along the pot-holed roads of the town, and I could do that glamorous ring puffing they do in the black and white films. I didn't like how my nails turned yellow, but I just painted them to cover it up. That's how much I liked you.

So when I was  finally used to the occasional fag I made sure to invite you for a smoke and a walk. You brought Crabby's apple cider with you (by the way it's still my favourite indoor Saturday drink.), we drank as we walked on the desolate roads in the country, we even shared a fag at one point. That night you were wearing a wax jacket, it looked so good on you I just wanted to push you into a bush and do things to you. Instead, when I got home and cranked open another bottle of Crabby's that you gave me I trawled the internet until about two in the morning for a wax jacket like yours. I eventually found a second hand one on eBay posted for 99p (Although I ended up paying around about £30 for it). It only took four days to arrive! I never stopped wearing it for the remaining five months that I knew you. When I saw you next you commented on it saying that I looked 'proper tidy' in it. When you said that, I remember almost throwing up on you. But I contained myself and smiled instead.

The last thing I remember doing was getting my hair cut. This was during the last week that I knew you. We met up to go into town because we were bored. You knocked on my door and your hair was all cut off. Okay not all, but your fringe had gone and instead there was this shaved headed youth standing on my Welcome Home doormat. I remember touching it and saying 'Well now at least my rings won’t get caught in it.', you laughed, but it was a little dishevelled. After that Adrenalin filled day we went behind a tree and had a fag in the closest field. It was nice because it was raining and we had to stand pretty close to stay dry, I remember your breath smelt of tic-tac’s and carcinogens, it was wonderful. When I got home I went into the bathroom and got my dad's shaver and shaved my head. It was okay because we were in the middle of our summer holidays, so it had loads of time to grow back again. After that I arranged to meet up with you for the following Friday. You said you were busy so I bypassed it. I asked again on Saturday, but you said you had to go out of town with you dad. I was sad, but instead of moping I went into town with my friends for some banter and sun. We went into Maccy D's, much to my disgrace, and there you were. Your burger stained tongue in some peroxide blonde's mouth. It was disgusting to see and I remember running out of there so desperately that I twisted my ankle. After three days of wet eyes and constant refill on nicotine I threw all of the vinyl onto an ash pile and set it on fire (although I did keep one Smiths album, 'cause the cover art was nice).

It's been over seven months and since then you and that blonde girl have broken up. Luckily my hair grew back to an appropriate length for school. I kind of miss my shaved head, but it did get so cold in January that I had to wear two hats whenever I went out! So I suppose I don't miss the extra expense of supplies I had to buy to keep my capillaries flowing at a suitable rate. I miss your company though, and when I smoke under our tree I get a little bit teary eyed and my wax jacket doesn't seem to have the same smell as yours. Maybe in the summer, I'll shave my head again...

Inspired by life around me