I hate my job. It's the same damn thing every day. The same damn people, the same damn complaints. When I was young I had this beautiful idea of what the world would be like when I grew up, but every day I forget a little bit more of what I used to imagine. It's like forgetting what your first dog's name was, you just remember that you loved him.
When I met her I didn't know anything about her. All I knew is that she was beautiful. She was a bit chubby, but her eyes made everything she did forgivable. For the first time since primary school I felt vulnerable, like I could be truly hurt. It felt horribly good, like my heart was getting a shiatsu massage. It made me feel alive.
I had spent so many years trying to be invulnerable, never letting anyone get to know me. Even though I did my best to be funny and kind, at my core I believed that nobody could ever love who I truly was. Every joke and meaningless piece of small talk was just a means of deflecting true human contact. Being emotionally invulnerable means shit if you've got nothing to protect.
She changed all that. I told her everything about me, and hearing it felt so ridiculous. I was so worried about sharing my darkest feelings and secrets, but hearing them out loud made them feel so small. Having her to hear them made me feel like it wasn't all so bad, that I wasn't all so bad.
Life means nothing if you have nobody to share it with. It's like filling a vault with Earth's most incredible treasures and then burying it forever. This is why I share everything with her. I don't want her to grow up and forget how beautiful the world could be. I want her to become the person that she challenges herself to be.
She is my daughter, and she is the reason I lift.
I lift to overcome being a shitskin manlet. One day, I may obtain a qtpi like pic related.
I lift for the glory of the Roman Empire
S P Q R