i can tell the diameter of my personhood is changing. we are, in some cases, beyond platonic shifts. i chip pieces of myself here and there, to fit in more for you. i hold all my best pieces, with nightmares of them slipping through my fingers like sand. i fear i am reducing myself to be nothing but dull. i’m sorry i’m sorry i’m sorry i don’t know who i'm sorry to i'm sorry
change is normal but you don’t like my culture, my style, or my core beliefs. i’m struggling with it. but this is love... i just want to serve **** and be a little animistic.