Do you ever get the sneaking suspicion you’ve been wrong about everything?
I’m not perfect, and I don’t claim to be. I’ve been ashamed of my torso for a long time. My left breast is larger than my right, due to some hormone imbalance or something during puberty. I literally have a tiny ‘boob’. I also have what is, if I remember correctly, basically an infected lymph node. The picture is mirrored, so it is actually on my right side. I had one operation to drain it, and have a biopsy done to make sure it wasn’t cancerous. It came back even larger. I have wanted to get both removed, but they are considered constructive surgery, so my insurance has never covered it. I also have my scars on my left, upper pectoral muscle. That being my fault. I was in a dark place in high school, and had always thought it’d be cool to have a ‘brand’. So when I was at my lowest, I went for it. Just a lighter and a knife. It healed into a pretty bad keloid. I have always lied about what it is. “My hand slipped and I landed on a hot carburetor.” Etc. It’s in the shape of 3 X’s. I haven’t self harmed since. I hate taking my shirt off around people. I feel ‘ugly’. I want to get tattoos to cover my chest, that way I have something I can be proud of. I have been going through a lot lately, and the lack of sleep and eating has cause a lot of weight loss. I have never done anything of this sort, so I’m kind of out of my comfort zone. I’m trying to be confident in myself.
Time to get back into things. And hopefully get into more things.
Truth is, in the end, you did what I never had the heart to do. I never had the stomach to leave. But truth is, you were never cut out for this. It will always hurt knowing it wasn’t real. That I will never have the end to the perfect story. That some day, I’ll forget your scars and freckles. Someday, I’ll forget what you tasted like and how you smelled. I’ll never hold the children we had planned, or build the home we imagined. But I have to move on. Regardless of how much it hurts, that you chose to party and be alone than even try to make it work. I will go on, and although I will never be over you, I’ll be better off. I will find someone who loves me, the way I am. Someone who appreciates my words and actions equally. Someone who cares about me, and actually trusts me. Someone who actually gives a shit. Someone who wants me. I hate to say it, but that person was never you.
My life will never be complete until I own one. This will always be my dream car.
1928 Ford Model A
Clear your mind here