I said goodbye to the red hair tonight. It's been 10 years and it isn't me anymore. Two and a half inches of my natural colour now fades almost seamlessly into the rest- a weird, dark, ash blond that's not silvery but more grey than anything else. I feel naked, exposed.

A month left until we leave this Siberia (and 8 weeks until we return to a city that makes me heave with regret).

And last night, it all fell apart. I fell apart.

My once-sweetest-friend, I, for the first time since we called it quits last July, mourned- truly mourned- for us. For you. For me. Deep painful sobs shook through me in bed last night. I couldn't believe that it had happened, that you and me were no longer us. Ten years ago, I would have bet my life on us. I don't make those kinds of bets often, especially not on friends. But anything else seemed inconceivable. Anything else was just plain wrong. How are you not a part of my life anymore? How is it that I haven't heard your voice in over 5 months?

I'm waiting for that email, the one you said you'd write when you had the time. The one with answers. No strings attached- all I wanted was an explanation, closure. I just wanted to understand. What's done cannot be undone, but I have to know. I have to know how we became unstuck. You and me, it was never supposed to happen- we weren't like everyone else.

But I fear that email. I fear it more than I want it. I am terrified that you'll provide me with answers that aren't earth-shattering and grave and full of teeth. I am terrified that your answers will be banal, mediocre- "We grew apart" or "I just never got used to you and him". Please tell me it's not that, anything but that. Tell me that you loved him too, or that you loved me, or that I didn't deserve him, or he didn't deserve me. Tell me it was something that destroyed you and made you full of rage and sorrow. Please tell me it was something we couldn't have fixed.

I need to know that we were ripped apart and shattered, utterly devastated. Anything else is blasphemy and thoroughly unforgivable.

And this city haunts me even now. A city that stole our perfect wedding, our perfect union. Both of our families and our friends who all turned on us. Years of lies carefully undone.

(When will I have real friends? When will I stop being so naive? How did you all do it? How is it, that for years, you were only pretending to like me, to like us, to care.)

The wedding that never happened. The wedding that was supposed to happen. With friends and family. I felt cheated. And it wasn't the first time. (Do you know that I never got to tell my best friend about my "first time"? He didn't want to hear it- didn't exactly say those words, but he visibly bristled whenever the topic of T was brought up. I had no one to share the most profound experience of my life with. This best friend, who knew everything about me, who *got* me the way no one ever had before... he turned his back on me. This same best friend who knew I had been in love with T for 3 years.)

The wedding full of beautiful, happy faces- of people who cared, who wanted us to be together. We would have stood so serenely in front of them, palm to palm, with blood flowing down our wrists. A blend of everything primal and unholy with touches of pomp and tradition here and there. The world would have split open that day.

I have a lot of work to do before the 30 days are up, before I can will myself back on a plane, back to a city of tantrums, dishonesty, headgames and drama. But it won't be for long- six months maybe... That's the plan anyway.