Dear '70s bush. I am so sorry. I realize now that I never loved you the way you deserve to be loved. I took you for granted, I grew tired of you. I thought you were tedious. I became intoxicated with the sleek, pornified look of the modern gal. I felt the weight of social expectations. So I looked the other way when someone tore you away from me. But the moment you were gone, I was forced to confront the bare truth: without you, I am nothing. I am as powerless as Samson; I am diminished. My sex drive died. I can't bear to look at the place you once occupied in my life. I miss you desperately. Please come back to me. I know you will. And when you do, I will never let anyone rip your natural, silky beauty away from me again. —Waxing and Waning