so... the day before yesterday i cut some plastic bracelets off my left arm. they had been a permanent fixture on my arm for approximately the last 5 years, like, i literally hadn't taken them off since they were put on (hence the reason for cutting them off as apposed to just taking them off, they had shrunk down to the point of not being able to slide off my hand).
i kind of felt like part of my identity was wrapped up in these little plastic loops around my wrist. somehow it made me a little different from all those bare wristed girls out there, or girls who wear watches, or girls who wear real jewelry. not that jelly bracelets are the most original of adornments. i mean, lets face it, you could probably find those things anywhere. but there was something special about them, where they had come from, and the fact that they had lasted so long.
it felt important somehow, cutting them off. like, symbolic, all though i'm not quite sure of what. my wrist was starting to feel a little suffocated, i was feeling a little suffocated, in fact i'd been feeling like that for about a week. was it really the bracelets or something else? i wasn't sure, but it felt like the right thing to do.
i had had many jelly bracelets over the past some odd years just plain fall off from exhaustion. they loose their jelly quality, get stiff, and break. it was always kind of sad to see one fall. this was different though. deliberate.
i finally had my sister do the honors of the first one. that one was the hardest. the pink plastic wrapped together with the once glittery clear plastic to form one super bracelet. it was impressive that they had lasted so long anyway. the rest were easy enough to cut off myself.
but now my wrist is naked and lonely. i'm a little depressed about it.
but enough waxing poetic about jelly bracelets.