I Had A Breast Reduction At Age 16 But I’ve Still Never Gotten To Wear The Lacey Bra Of My Dreams
“Don’t you want to see?” she asked. I did not. The mirror was enemy number one.
“Don’t you want to see?” she asked. I did not. The mirror was enemy number one.
You cry into the soft space between his face and shoulders, because you are violently sad. You love him, deeply, and you hate this.