What makes me happy? Grabbing a fresh romantic book, smelling the satisfying aroma of the pages, feeling the rough paper between my fingers. Readying my mind to enter an unexplored world, to live an adventure through a relatable character. And as I delve into that world, reading about the new place I now was in, I become happy reliving the beautiful thing called love. It makes me excited for the life that will come to me when I grow older. Feeling a lover's tender touch, being kissed softly, being delicately embraced by someone who sees me as their world. I can't wait to have someone I can call handsome, or beautiful. Someone to get me through my darkest days, to marry and to raise children with. To be with for the rest of my life. Someone I can call my true love.
What makes me sad? Mirrors, cameras, puddles, spoons. Any surface that will reflect or show me my face. Anything that throws at me the constant reminder that I'll never have what I want most. No one will love me if I'm unattractive, and I know I am ugly in every way possible. I'll never be able to change my face without hurting myself. I'll never be naturally pretty. I'll never be anything someone could love.copyright protection29ＰＥＮＡＮＡNYO04QuSYM
So... what makes me happy? Pretending. What makes me sad? Reality.copyright protection29ＰＥＮＡＮＡslZJ6775MPns188.8.131.52da2