Last semester I was chillin’ in my room with my roommate. We were either at our respective desks surfing the net or something of that nature. I think I was trying to watch some stupid Chinese movie like The Blade, I dunno.
Anyway, Chris turns around and gets my attention, so I say, “Whats up?”
“Ummm, I don’t know how to say this so I’m just going to come right out and say it…” His tone was very serious.
I look at him with my eye-brows all scrunched in like I’m trying to read the future of our conversation before he spits it out, “…ok, go for it.”
He got up from his desk, shut the door, and locked it. THIS WAS SERIOUS. He sat back down and we stared at each other for a second and then he started in. “So, I was just sitting here and I was talking to Elisa online.”
“Ok…”
“And she didn’t seem like she was in that great of a mood, but what was really weird was the last thing she said to me before she got offline was ‘I’m a cutter’.”
What the crap is that supposed to mean? Is she one of those weirdos who gets off by cutting themselves? And what are we supposed to do about it? Great. Now we have a nutso friend who likes to cut themselves. Just great.
Chris said that he knew someone else like her, and she went to get counseling or something, but it didn’t do any good. So he’s kinda flippin’ out because he thinks that no matter of therapy will help a “cutter” out.
So, being the Boy Scout that I am (BE PREPARED). I develop a plan of action. Tomorrow we will confront her about this, and if she denies the whole thing, then we should talk to a professor who can help her out. We weren’t going to give up on her.
We decided that the first thing we needed to do was pray immediately. So we both prayed that this was some kind of misunderstanding, or some weird joke, or if Elisa really needed help that we could both be strong enough to help her out.
The next day I see Elisa in the cafeteria and I come up to her and I give her this million-dollar hug. I hold her and tell her that we need to talk later. She looks at me with this very odd face. She says, “alright…….”
She comes to me later that night and tells me that she cut Sierra’s hair last night. That’s right: to Oregonians “cutter” means “hair-cutter-type-person.” She also told me that she told another girl online that she was “a cutter” and this girl came into her room that night and was about to go into a crying fit because she had a friend that used to cut herself.
This never would have happened if Elisa wasn’t freakin’ weird. (you know I’m teasin’ and I love ya!)
So, now Sierra thinks the whole thing is pretty funny and she uses the whole thing as an adverb like this:
“I miss you, and I totally need a "Hi, I’m Tim. Elisa, don’t be a cutter" hug.”