and whether they are ugly or beautiful, they are mine.
the abuse of my last boyfriend, and the adoration of my current one.
the suicide of my father, and the death of my only father figure.
the love of my mother, and the narcissism of my grandmother.
the split-up of friendships, the making of new ones.
the rejection, and hope, love and dislike, new opportunities, missed opportunities, awkwardness, acceptance, and faith. it all marks a person. and my physical and emotional injuries mark me.
but the good things do too
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