I've been in love with Jake Calloway since I was sixteen years old.He was twenty-one then – home from college for Christmas, walking through the kitchen in grey sweatpants and no shirt while I sat at the counter with his sister Megan eating cereal. He didn't even see me. Grabbed the orange juice, drank straight from the carton, said "morning, Meg" to his sister, and walked out. Never glanced in my direction. I was invisible – Megan's dorky friend with the braces and the frizzy hair and the body that hadn't figured itself out yet.I went home that night and touched myself for the first time thinking about a real person.That was ten years ago.I'm twenty-six now. The braces are gone. The hair is gone – replaced by the kind of blowout I learned from YouTube and maintain with religious dedication. The body figured itself out around twenty-two and I've spent the last four years making sure it stays figured out. New job – junior partner at a marketing firm. New apartment. New confidence.
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