When I walked home from class tonight, I thought about how my life might be viewed from other people's perspectives. I remember talking to my two friends over dinner some time ago, I was listening intently to their love stories when suddenly heads turned to me.
"So, why don't you tell us your stories." She looked at me conspiratorially. I sat back, amused. "What stories?" I asked. "Juicy stories, love stories. You must have some." I looked at both of them, and I shrugged my shoulders helplessly. I told them my juicy stories. But apparently it wasn't juicy enough when my friend asked, "How old are you again?" Her forehead was marked with concern. "24." I smiled. "What a waste." I laughed at her remark.
I walked home today and I looked up at the sky where the full moon sat idly and I asked myself, "What if I feel fine with the way I am, right here right now?".
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