The alarm goes off. She ignores it. That’s the right idea. But there’s no squeezing time for more and lying here will only start a chain reaction of shit. I can’t afford to fall behind. So with regret I kick off the blanket. The air is cold. She touches my arm. It’s hard to walk away.
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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