“What’s up?” she sighed.

“I think I want this to be a relationship,” I said. “You don’t.”

“I — ”

“You don’t.” I was surprised by the intensity in my voice. “Like, I think you think that this is normal, but that’s the problem. It’s been years of this — ”

“That’s unfair,” she said, before I could continue. “God, this is just like you. You don’t talk to me about this stuff, and then — you know, I’m not a mind reader here. If there was something about our — ”

“I’m leaving,” I said. “This isn’t a conversation.”

I didn’t move, though. I searched her face for information. I was holding on a little longer than I had to. If she had said something with love, I might have faltered. But her look was her usual steely impatience. Behind us, the screen flickered between different images, seemingly stuck on a short loop. Water — trees — water — trees.

“Is that it?” she said incredulously.

“Yeah,” I said.

I got up and left. The light outside was golden and dazzling. She followed me to the doorway.

“I’m sorry,” she said from the doorway. She said it with spite, like it was just something else she was burdening me with, which it was.

“Yeah, okay,” I said, and kept walking.

♒

When I got home, I found a pair of fabric scissors in a can of markers and pencils under the coffee table. I sat on the floor in front of the full-length mirror by the door and watched myself cut off the big strand of hair that hung down on one side of my face. Never again would Erin tuck it behind my ear. I cut off the same piece on the other side.

I had started, so I had to keep going, keep cutting. I looked worse and worse the more I did it. I laughed at my own reflection, then I started crying.

The invective voice I had used against myself, ever since I was a teenager, came easily to me. You ugly, dumb girl, you can’t take care of yourself. You’ll always lay the blame for your own life on other people. The real people take on the weight of the world, they take and take and take. I said some of this out loud, and it made me feel better.

When Lauren got back from work, I was still sitting there, holding the scissors in one hand, like a child. I saw her expression go from concerned to amused in the mirror.

“Girl, what the hell did you do?” Lauren said from behind me.

“I’m done with Erin,” I said.

“Thank god. Here, I used to cut hair when I lived in the Bay. Let me fix this.”