on the first day, we introduced ourselves, laughing and wondering how we had never met before. I’m still wondering. ten. I want to stop picking at my fingers in case you try to hold my hand. ten. I’ve thought about you holding my hand. ten. I want you to hold my hand. ten. I’m scared you’ll try to hold my hand. eleven. I’m not comfortable in my own skin. I’ve been told there’s far too much of it. twelve. you make me less hopeless. twelve. I don’t think you want romantic. thirteen. this is my favorite number. always has been. always will. fourteen. I’d be okay not being beautiful, as long as
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