phoenix {rising}
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Simple Answer
<<2003-04-26 - 1:37 a.m.>>

Claire, vaguely drunk, made asparagus and pasta and we curled on her bed and ate with our fingers and talked. She said, "How do you feel about having your picture taken? I notice that there are a few angles you like and the rest you throw out."

"I don't throw them out. I have an extensive collection of pictures of me that I hate. They're at home."

"Four thousand miles away where no one can see them. Except your family, and they'd love you anyway."

"I don't know. I tend to have the creeping suspicion that if they saw these pictures of me they'd stop."

"What's so wrong with them?"

"Wrong angle, weird facial expression, bad skin—"

"Really?"

"Yeah. And the 'Oh, gosh, I look so fat' thing."

"So does it bother you that much?"

"Sometimes it—sometimes—not sometimes. Yes. Simple answer. Yes. It bothers me that much."

Simple answers are not so simple. Claire: know that I have never said that before. Just know that.

It bothers me that much. Yes, it does.

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