Unlike STAR WARS, Episode IV: A New Hope, I'm about all out of hope.
Today marks the 54th month since the original June 2012 "I'll shave your head" ordeal began.
At this point, my hair is 23 inches longer than it was at that time, and I rather like having my hair this length. If I cut it all off tomorrow, I'd probably start growing it back to this length within the next month or two. The only thing that keeps me having any desire, or hope, for having her shave it off is my two fold desire to 1) once again have an intimate physical relationship with my wife, and 2) for her to finally have no more excuses as to why she hasn't quit smoking again.
Over the past several months, the second has become the more immediate reason. Ever since I told her (back in September) that I think she is smoking too much, and needs to think about quitting again, it seems that she has started smoking more and more. I know she is easily up to a pack a day, if not more than that. I worry so much about the effects on her health, that it often invades my dreams and makes me sad.
If giving up my long hair is what it takes to get her to cut back, and eventually quit again, well then it's a small price to pay for her long term well being. And if it could possibly have any chance of helping spark a romantic relationship between up once again, I'd do it tomorrow.
My Bubbie Bee, Karen, is the Love of my Life; and if I'm going to do my best to be around for a good more number of years to come, I definitely want to do anything possible to ensure that she is right there by my side all the while. Neither of these conflicted preoccupations about hair or smoking should come before that. So what ever it takes, is what it takes.
I do wish that she still had her beautiful blonde hair. I still fantasize about having my blonde barberette taking all of my long hair off. It would have really made the night just a bit more extra sexy and special.
Karen, Shave me. Please.