People who see my sister and I for the first time like to point out how similar we look. In actuality, despite 12 years my junior, my sister is taller than me. She has long flowing dark hair like a mane, the kind I used to only dream about as a child with my misbehaving curls getting the best of my head. She has pale skin like me but the kind that
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As it happens I share a lot it seems at times, either verbally or written, but there are a few, certain things I never share. Not with my closest friends, not with my family, not with my therapist, and not even with a piece of paper. Those things are the security blanket inside my head, keep me safe when the world suddenly seems like an especially uninviting place.
Sometimes I think that is why I stopped writing as much as I used to. I tend to feel like I no longer know which stories or thoughts are okay to let go off into the world, and which are best left inside my heart. I guess maybe that's why I had to write that. To feel like I'm letting something out...or someone in.
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