my mom gave me my blue eyes, my sense of humour, and my love of nature. my dad gave me my inability to truly love. who can say which is the greater gift
Haha, oh sorry, I was on mute. I was saying I worry I’ve permanently worn down all the charming edges of myself that others didn’t like and I’ve become dull like a riverstone—and perhaps the only way to make new edges is to fragment into smaller and smaller pieces until nothing is left.
Thoughts on having eyes:
1. You are not your eyes.
2. You have relationships with your eyes (like coworkers).
3. They deserve curiosity and boundaries.
4. You don't have to adopt them as part of you. Getting along well requires willingness to see and forget.
5. Veinier than you'd expect
