by Axel Trolliet<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cReady?\u201d I asked her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYeah, go ahead.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Before turning the hair clipper on, I held back a waterfall of tears. I took a few seconds to admire her through the bathroom mirror of our tiny flat we moved in to live together a year ago, she was sitting on a wooden chair. She was so sweet, so strong. She was wearing one of those oversized American college sweaters and a relaxed baggy. She had beautiful natural hair, brown with bright reflections, the whole cut in a plunging square.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Before turning it on, I said \u201cYou don\u2019t know how lovely you are.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou listen to Coldplay too much, come on go ahead, by the way Jim, go get the speaker in the kitchen so that I can put MY OWN PLAYLIST please\u201d she funnily replied.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSir, yes sir!\u201d and I went to get it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Gemma always had the habit of making jokes when we should not. She also made fun of me a lot. I believe that\u2019s what made me fall in love with her, her sense of humor. I met her in a perfectly not original way: in a bar four years ago. We were both twenty-one years old when we met. I was still at university but had a part time job in a gas station, and she was working in a nursery. Gemma loved working with children, she had always dreamt to have three or four kids. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOkay, once again, ready?\u201d I said with a tight throat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cJim, how many more times are you going to ask me?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOkay, okay, so\u2026 let\u2019s turn it on\u201d I replied, as if pressing a switch button was a hard work.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cJim, relax, here\u2019s some relaxing music for you, go ahead\u201d she said while looking for songs on her phone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A few months after moving in together, Gemma often had chest pains and was tired. One day, I brought her to the hospital to do a check because it wasn\u2019t normal. Her two grandmothers had died of cancer when she was a child. As a big hypochondriac, I had always been scared that the person I loved the most might have this in her genetics. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNot that hard, you see? No need to be a hairdresser for that\u201d she said while I started shaving the back of her head.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMaybe we should have given it a little cut with scissors before, that\u2019s long too long I\u2019m struggling a bit.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAlways grumbling! Now that you\u2019ve started let\u2019s end this up quickly!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOkay I\u2019ll do my best\u2026\u201d I replied being focused on my temporary status as hairdresser.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A few days after the medical check, Gemma was summoned at the hospital. I was waiting behind the door during her appointment. When she got out the room, she came to me and hugged me with all her strength. She was crying. Gemma announced me that the doctors had diagnosed she had breast cancer. Besides being the funniest girl in the world, she was someone over positive. After hugging me, she looked at me in the eyes and said \u201cWe\u2019ll get through this, there\u2019s no way I\u2019m abandoning you, I love you Jim\u201d.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cLook at this! I look like a punk girl\u201d she laughed after I had cut the sides.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cGemma, I cannot laugh at that come on!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cCome on Jim, it\u2019s funny look!\u201d she said while imitating a punk crest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Forced laughter<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cJim, it\u2019s okay, remember, we\u2019ll get through all this together. I\u2019ll look like a little white egg but that\u2019s a step to fight all that\u201d she said while smiling at me with her little pretty eyes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou\u2019re so beautiful even with your \u201cpunk crest\u201d my little Gemma\u201d I said to her after giving her a kiss on the cheek.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The days after that announcement were really hard, I couldn\u2019t stop thinking about why. She was so young, we had so many life plans. I just could not imagine life without her. I could not care about anything else than Gemma. I was very careful with her, whenever she needed anything, I did everything for her, she was so tired.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOkay Gemma, would you be so kind as to stop playing with your hair so that I can finish that?\u201d I kindly asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYeah sorry\u201d She answered with a little funny voice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOkay let\u2019s get rid of that punk crest now.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n A few days later, Gemma had a new appointment at the hospital for more checks and a start of treatment. The doctors found out that a breast removal wasn\u2019t enough, the disease had already spread a bit. Gemma had to start a chemotherapy. The doctors were quite hopeful about her case as she was young and in good shape.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cGosh I\u2019m awful! I didn\u2019t wanna wear a wig, but I definitely will!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhat are you saying? Gemma, you\u2019re so beautiful! With or without your hair it doesn\u2019t change anything for me, your friends and your family, you know it\u201d I said to her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYeah\u2026 at least I\u2019ll save time in the mornings, no need to straighten anything now! Oh, it\u2019s funny to touch, I didn\u2019t know my skull was of this form.\u201d She jokingly said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n A few weeks ago, Gemma started her first chemotherapy treatment. I brought her each two weeks to the hospital. With that treatment, she had lost a few kilos and seemed physically more fragile. However, her good mood and her humor did absolutely not go away. Sometimes, I even wondered who was ill between us two. She seemed less affected than me, at least that\u2019s what she was showing. On my part, I tried not to show her how depressed I was, but it was hard. Finally, I gave myself the answer that it was our fight to both.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI\u2019m over Gemma\u201d I said while finishing to cut her hair.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThanks Mr. Hairdresser, the cut suits me!\u201d She said jokingly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou\u2019re so pretty, I love you\u201d I said and thought.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cSorry?! I look like my father without a hair on the stone but thank you Jim, love you too\u201d She laughed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cGemma, shake out your clothes and go get some rest, I\u2019ll take care of cleaning the bathroom\u201d.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI don\u2019t think so Jim, go get the hoover and give it to me hurry up\u201d she said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n At this moment, Gemma did not get up from the chair on which she was sitting while I was cutting her hair yet. I had one single thought in my mind, it required guts. I had in front of me the person I loved; so strong and so exemplary. I had to do it. I took the hair clipper back, I turned it on, and I ran it through my hair too.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cJim?!\u201d she said, I didn\u2019t answer. I just kept going.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Gemma had her hands on her eyes, she was shocked and cried. She got up and hugged me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou\u2019re the best Jim\u201d she said to me while crying.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI guess we\u2019re a pair of two little white eggs now\u201d I answered while laughing and crying at the same time.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" \u201cReady?\u201d I asked her.<\/p>\n \u201cYeah, go ahead.\u201d<\/p>\n Before turning the hair clipper on, I held back a waterfall of tears.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[6],"tags":[9,7],"class_list":["post-361","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fiction","tag-9","tag-fiction"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/web1.unine.ch\/new\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/361","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/web1.unine.ch\/new\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/web1.unine.ch\/new\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/web1.unine.ch\/new\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/web1.unine.ch\/new\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=361"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/web1.unine.ch\/new\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/361\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":362,"href":"https:\/\/web1.unine.ch\/new\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/361\/revisions\/362"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/web1.unine.ch\/new\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=361"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/web1.unine.ch\/new\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=361"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/web1.unine.ch\/new\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=361"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}