a paragraph on insecurity
She wasn’t very tall. At least, not compared to me. And in comparison as well, she was lovely. Why are there girls who get the hair, the figure, and the personality? And you have to love them. There is something hypnotic in the way they talk, and though you have no romantic feelings for them, you still hang on their every word? She is like that. Too dark to be golden, but shining. Like the fucking sun, my brother said. But he was in love with her, so who knows. (she certainly didn’t) and when she walks, her years of dance classes I could never afford show in the way she carries herself. And even though she was-is (time confuses me) only five-foot-three. She gives the impression of grandeur.
© transparentlyopaqueidream
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