But for now, your eyes are magical. They only see beauty, and they see it in everyone. It’s the most beautiful thing about you.
“I don’t want to go,” she says, barely above a whisper. “What if I come in last?” I feel the pit forming in my stomach, the same one I know she feels.
I realized that I’m not me without them—all the women who have been and will be in my life. The women who’ve known me since childhood, for many years, or for just a few months. The women who’ve shared laughs, clothes, drinks, rants, insecurities, tears, hand sanitizer, and evites.