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knew from experience that when you tried to bottle your feelings up inside, you inevitably sprang leaks in places that seemed entirely unrelated.
People focused so much on the prince slipping on Cinderella’s lost shoe that they didn’t realize the real happily ever after was the moment she realized she was brave enough to go to the damned ball alone in the first place.
That was the thing with creating something; you put some bit of yourself into it, if you did it well, but fuck if you could control what bit of yourself that was.
