When I finally decided to stop seeming cooler and more easygoing than I actually was, when I finally stopped pretending that nothing bothered me, that I didn’t need to talk about heavy stuff or express my emotions, when I finally stopped seeing tears as a weakness (being utterly unable to cry is a pretty blatant weakness, if you ask me), that’s when I realized that I was trying to truss up my weird in a shiny conventional package. Guys always thought I was a Little Debbie snack cake, but then they’d open the package and find anchovies and feel disappointed. Instead of questioning why I was
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