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I feel things in full color while the world around me lives in grayscale and calls it peace.

Maybe I'm not broken| Maybe I just love the way I was always meant to open, loud, unashamed, even when no one claps at it.

I am learning to hold my own hand while walking toward someone who might never walk toward me.

And that's not pathetic. That's practice. That's the quiet work of becoming someone I don't need to apologize for.