I wake up with my anxiety. I let her choose my outfit. Most times, I mean, every time, it's just a hoodie. She lets me eat so much even if it's not healthy. She says the later you're, the less communication you do. So I get to spend more time looking at the mirror while she gushes at my insecurities and scars. I never talk back at her. I dare not. She says, never say hello first because they would think you're friendly...
She holds my hands and say don't tell Jerry you love him too because...