Odessa Zara's

Tokyo, November 21, 2025. --- いつのまにか髪が長くなった いつのまにか、涙がこぼれた It’s seven degrees Celsius at 1 AM. I was looking at myself in the mirror an hour ago, finally realizing my hair had gotten long. The hair that usually stays hidden behind my hijab. The hair that is usually held up by claw clips all day. So when I finally let it down, washed it, and let it hang straight, it looked so long—the longest it has been in the last six years. But oh, how fast the night changes. I, who was so happy to see my long hair return, was weeping while listening to a song I discovered at the office yesterday. I couldn't shed a tear back then; how could I explain my sudden breakdown to four colleagues I only met two weeks ago? Ha, recently, I haven't even been able to cry in front of my significant other of six years. It is what it is. When I finally found myself alone—a space to breathe and a time to pause—I felt my past self crawling out from deep within, complete with her dissatisfaction, insecurity, an...