Last Summer Crisis

As I write this I am in my quaint little backyard
sitting on a cement block, hugging the side of the house
trying to remain in the ever-fleeting shade
toes buried deep in grass
fingers dancing across the keys as single strand of hair falls on to my keyboard
another reminder of my fate: baldness.

It started falling a couple of months ago right around the time of finals.
I thought it would stop after the stress past. Not so.
My mother thinks its the way I live, life on the run.
When the semester ended I hit the road, traveling non-stop for nearly six weeks.
I believe it's my diet, more specifically, my lack-of-protein diet that has led me to this point. Don't be mislead, I am not a vegetarian. It's just that meat and I have been at odds with each other for as long as I can remember. The idea of chewing on something that never disintegrates and you eventually just have to swallow it whole to make room for the next bite has never been very appealing to me. Today is day three of my I-do-not-want-to-be-bald-when-I'm-twenty-three diet.
Black beans and eggs are my new best friends and I'm about to be introduced to tofu. A wise man once told me: be kind to your sebaceous glands and your sebaceous glands will be kind back to you. Soon I will learned how to grill tilapia and chicken breast. And I will do it with a smile on my face. My dear health fanatic aunt has got me popping vitamins like there's no tomorrow. Acidophilus, MSM, Barley, and a boastfully bragging bottle of low odor B Complex to name a few.

So here are my goodbyes, laments, and apologies to the head of hair that has been with me for two good decades.
I know I haven't always treated you the best: tying you up in ponytails, scolding you with hot iron, letting you get tangled, matted and dreaded, forgetting to wash you, refusing to condition, brush and pamper you. I could've treated you better but I didn't. I could've feed you the proteins that your follicles so desperately needed but I didn't. I was selfish and put my own wants in front of your needs. And for this I am sorry. It's hard to part but I need to say goodbye before it's too late and thank you for 20 great years.