The Story About My First Scar

I must have been somewhere between the ages of seven and nine when I got my first scar. It is barely noticeable anymore, but I sometimes find myself staring at it. Do you ever just stare at your imperfections long enough until it blends in with the rest of your body, and then you’re reminded that it is essentially a part of you? Not just as a part of your body, but a part of who you are?

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