For most of my adult life I've had really long hair.
Being in a relationship with 
Anyone that has grown their hair out knows of the struggles that come with obscenely long locks. But now these problems are doubled. And new ones have arisen with having a long-haired partner.
Let's take a look at some of our struggles:
#1. Oh my god, we're out of shampoo AGAIN?
For fuck's sake, we go through more shampoo and conditioner than a lone wookiee would in a week. We have ended up resorting to buying industrial sized bottles.
The biggest ones that stores carry. With the pumps on them.
And yet, we still run out every three weeks. It is an expensive and ridiculous problem. Not to mention, the tub, ourselves, and everything around is always slick as shit from conditioner.
One of us is gonna slip and die one day.
#2. The Trouble with Tribbles.
I used to think that I made bad hairballs by myself. Little did I know that it could be so much worse.
Everywhere we inhabit is overrun with little monstrosities tucked into the corners, rolling across the floor, and getting stuck in the wheels of anything that moves.
I cannot tell you how many fights we have had about who's hair is the primary source of the current problematic tribble stuck in or on something.
We have love tumbleweeds just rolling through. You get used to it.
#3. Where's the fucking hair brush?!
In the months we have been together in person we have bought numerous brushes. Detangler brushes, conditioner brushes, wet brushes, boar hair brushes, nit combs for removing dandruff...
Brushes the size of our heads so we can't misplace them.
We've had car brushes and bathroom brushes and bedroom brushes and living room brushes and travel brushes.
And yet every single one grows legs and runs off to brush unicorn manes in another dimension or something. If they don't escape their horrible existence of attempting to tame our hair, they get broken.
Forget losing socks, THIS is the bane of our personal existence.
I hope someday to find a pile of missing brushes à la Smaug.
"Sammo, what do your elf eyes see?"
"ALL... except for a bloody brush."
#4. "Your hair is in my mouth."
"Ditto."
When we embrace or lay in bed, one or both of us will end up with a mouth full of hair.
Or whacked in the face.
Or smothering in it.
Or laying on each other's hair and inadvertently pulling it and hurting each other.
Forget trying to have a romantic kiss that doesn't involve at least one of us with a chunk of mane getting in on the action. It is an unrealistic expectation and we've learned to live with it.
There is also nothing like waking up in the middle of the night to pull hair out of your mouth. Or from around your neck.
I swear some of them are becoming malicious and sentient. They are fighting for territory. Unbeknownst to us, our hair is feuding in some kind of silent war.
Someday I fully suspect one or both of us is going to cough up a hairball.
And finally, #5. OIls and bottles and brushes, oh my.
The amount of hair product that we go through is ridiculous.
But the amount that we own is even more insane.
Four different kinds of shampoos and conditioners. For when we want volume. When we need to detangle. Perhaps for dandruff. Need some extra shine.
The number of hair ties we have broken, used until worthless, or lost completely could probably tie the Titanic back together.
We should buy stock in Argan. A tiny drop will do you, but forget it when you both have thick, thirsty hair.
If we made public how much oil we own, America would try to invade us.
Our locks may smell fabulous but what people don't know about is all of the clothing and fabric we've ruined attempting to oil and brush out a tangled mess.
