I’m so used to planning for guys, dressing and undressing for them and trying to morph myself into their dream girl. I’m so used to it that I don’t really know where that girl ends and the real me begins. I suppose what it comes down to is confidence. I’m confident in that girl, the one who emerges from my walk-in wearing lingerie when I’m done getting ready. But at Faye’s house, I’m not going to be that girl. I’m going to be me.
Whoever that is anymore.

Somewhere along the way I feel as though I lost my identity and its not like losing a passport it feels more like losing someone so dear to your heart that it pains you everyday to be so unsure if you’ll ever see them again or not

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