I am cringe. I am crazy. I laugh too loudly and trip over my feet. On my best days I’m a mess of dark hair, big love, and a sharp wit. On my worst I’m unfair, harsh, and too quick to speak or judge. But on both days, I am trying. I am laughing at myself. I am holding myself accountable (even if it’s in retrospect). I am admitting when I’m hurt, scared, happy, or hopeful. I am learning how to love things that are good for me, leave things that aren’t, and how to tell the difference between the two. I am deciding that actually, I am enough and there is time. I am trying, and I am failing. On
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