My chest hole is too big to be filled, everything just falls out the other side. I'm such an emotional wreck at this point that I would just look like a rubber band with arms and legs
I've spent years and years trying to love myself, reasoning about why I wasn't a hollow piece of crap, and it kind of failed. A very few years back, I started just enjoying very little things about me, infinitesimal stuff, shit that goes unnoticed by pretty much everyone but me, and it helps a lot. It's that whistling sound it makes when I run at the right angle, and it means everything to me.
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