Of course I loved the previous me. She was the girl who drew wings of butterflies that did not exist. She smiled her toothy smile that didn't quite fit the frame of her face yet, unapologetically. She sang, thinking she had the best voice in the world when she probably couldn't even carry a tune more than a feet. She gave the best hugs.
Of course I loved the previous me. When you asked her a question, her answer was concrete. Sure, determined, not doubtful in the least. She was smart, effortlessly intelligent, keen. She was something else, wasn't she?
Of course I loved the previous me. She didn't know how to be hurt, she didn't _not_ know how to feel. She felt, oh my, she felt deeply. She didn't let herself feel anything but everything with everyone and everybody. She cried, not a tear shed in secrecy. She loved, she hurt, she felt, wholely.
Of course I loved the previous me. The walls were shorter, there were always new people to meet. She was quieter, yet louder. She was
I lost my train of thought... and I started lying again...why do I keep making up things that don't exist???
