Here...try this on...it’ll never fit you…I bought it for myself…it's perfect in the shoulders… but too big otherwise. It slips on me like it was made to measure. I look great. I laugh. Not much of man I hear the voices say in my head that remind me of the men I knew when I was young as she wraps her arms around me from behind.
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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