Insecure

He called just now, and told me that he was on his way out to have some fun with his new friends.


I can imagine how he dress up, style his hair with gel, spray his expensive perfume all over his body, and greet everyone with his kind smile.


While I am here, with messy-unhealthy hair, wearing my old kaftan, running back and forth like a crazy lady chasing for my super-duper active baby and of course, smell like hell too.


I feel ugly. I feel lonely. I feel insecure. 



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