Sometimes we don’t realize that we are choosing to be discontent with our lives. We are living someone else’s version of success. We are making decisions based on which ones will get people to like us more.

It consumes me.  This desire to be skinny, small, too small.  Even though I see the numbers get lower, I feel like I look the same.  It frustrates me.

I want to let the redness of you stain my smile. I’m thirsty for these moments. I wish to abandon sense and reason, to fly from sober solemn silences and get loud with you, to laugh with you with complete and reckless abandon.


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