Before leaving I wake her. She opens her eyes and puts her fingers in my scruffy beard. She pulls me close and kisses my lips. ‘You’re beautiful’ she repeats until I believe. I didn’t sleep last night so I’m emotional. My vision blurs with tears.
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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