Sometimes I wake up hating.
I hate how wide my hips are, how my legs will never be longer, how I’ll look ridiculous in a swimsuit, how my skin isn’t glossy clear, how I need to work for the things I want, how I can’t just shop my days away, how I have worries, how I’m away from my family, how I don’t want to do my own laundry, how I need to study all the time, how other people have it better, and how the universe is just so unfair.
And then I start to think.
What about the girl who lost her mother to cancer a few months ago? All she could see were the bruises, smell the medicine, breathe in the stench of a waning human life. All the security and peace she ever knew blown up in an instant, where death meets life. Her world will…
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