We are surrounded by people who are obsessed with being seen as perfection.
We watch as others share their lives so detailed that it seems like they are trying to prove something to us.
We stand there as silicone dolls dance across the screen only to collapse back stage.
We are different kind of people, Him and I.
Different from the puppets that surround us.
And there is something I'm thinking.
Something I'm feeling.
Something about the fact that I'm happier when I come home than I was before I was with him.
Something about him that makes me want to start loving strawberries.
Something about the way that front seat makes me feel "at home."
Something I can't quite put my finger on.
But something I'm thrilled to figure out.
Something about looking forward to this potentially amazing journey.
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