I didn’t believe in myself though. So instead of chasing a dream or settling into a family and a car and the types of payments that even thinking about make me cringe with fear I languished. Without drive or confidence I let myself sink to the bottom of the lake like the anchor my old man tossed overboard on those afternoons I was coerced into joining them and their friends. I hated every second of those days and they knew it.
And I need all the reasons I can find not to hate myself. But it’s hard. Even the idea makes me shiver. Because I see loving myself like looking down on others. Riding around on a high horse. And I never want to think I’m better then the people I see on the street. The ones who have it rough. The ones who don’t fit in. The ones I see my own face in.
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