I put both feet through the legs and pull them up, and they fit without the need to wiggle. I can even button them without sucking my stomach in. Walking over to the mirror, I stare at myself blankly, but fully entranced. How is it possible that I fit into Oli’s pants? It’s hard to explain how I feel on the inside. But putting on my best friend’s pants, a woman I find incredibly gorgeous, strikes a chord with me. It has me questioning all my ugly thoughts. Where did this hate inside of me come from? I've spent countless hours trying to make myself better, not to be this person, but when I dig
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