I find myself thinking of her, walking through a furniture store showroom floor and comparing all the comforts. Trying to find one that breathes, that won’t stain, that will last. Something that endures and matches the decor I’ve got in mind. Everything looks so good I’m scared, it’s been so long since I’ve had something new. I never know what’s going to fit my life until it becomes such a part of it that I no longer bother to notice. Sometimes I think I should just sit on the floor, wait, and make myself comfortable in my own body.

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