I Am Made Up of the Pieces of You

I sometimes feel insecure, fragmented, anxious, though I want to feel confident, composed and strong. I sometimes want to be gutsy, to chop off my hair, but somebody else beats me to it.

I sometimes develop an unhealthy obsession with a young woman who I think is better than me in most ways.

(Later, we become unlikely friends, and I see that she is just as awesome as I thought, and better. I remember that I am pretty awesome, too.)

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