I prepare coffee and walk to the canal. An old route I’ve strolled countless times. It used to be with her. I smirk because I know where I’ll end up. On our old bench in a manicured park. Today I’ll face the sun until it dips below the trees. I’ll look toward the future.
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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