sometimes i think my days of heavily relying on dave strider as a coping mechanism are behind me but then i have weeks like this one where im like its not even a crutch im just straight up bridal style in his good noodle boy arms
i feel like there’s 2 of me tbh. there’s the pretty skinny fuckable girl my ex wanted, and then there’s what i actually am now. i feel so disconnected from myself. i feel like i’m actually her right now, you know? through the power of flashbacks i can become a size 6 again. whenever i feel like this looking in the mirror is very new body who dis tbh. idk what i look like anymore, idk what i am. i feel like i could take this body off like a jacket and slip into a pair of heels and go out and be, like, her. i’ve spent so much time working and trying to become a person again, be a messy butch and be cute and charming, and i kind of can’t remember why or if it worked at all or anything. i threw out all my makeup. i feel like if i go look in my bathroom right now it’ll be there.