hostile copypaste

After over a year of considering it, I finally deleted my Instagram.

It’s a special kind of isolation, I think.

I’ve gotten the materials together.

I’ve recently been diagnosed.

Do you hyperfixate on your breasts?

Ever since my partner asked last weekend if I wanted to become a knitfluencer, its been bouncing around my brain.

I said today, to my partner and his mother, that I would go and help work on maintenance projects at the theatre, in preparation for a street fair this weekend.

When it comes up, I tell people I first fell in love when I was sixteen.

“Everything I do with my best friend,” Abby told me, “I have to be able to do with my husband.”

Every Sunday, I hope that maybe this week, Dad will forget.