you know what’s fucked up?
that you can be without someone for six months, a year, five years and have mastered not thinking about them, but no matter how much time passes there will always be that moment where you see a photo of them or catch a little of their cologne on a crowed street and suddenly you’re plagued with a rapidly sinking stomach and the relentless question, “what did i do wrong?”
I want you to imagine a 10 year-old version of yourself sitting right there on this couch. Now this is the little girl who first believed that she was fat and ugly and an embarrassment. I want you to imagine her sitting there right now. Now tell that little girl she’s fat. Tell that little girl she’s ugly. Tell that little girl that she’s an embarrassment, worthless, and useless. Because that’s what you do every single day when you say that to yourself.