Think of good things. Like heading home to her. Yeah…that’s it, revel in the present. Because soon she’ll leave and it’ll be me and the walls and the shadows and that damn stray cat who stalks them, staying out of eyesight, always laughing. One day I’ll teach it who’s boss.
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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