But you said...
Forget what I said.

I never seem to learn, that part about talking too much. Talk things out. Sounds like something only therapists say. Get it out in the open. Get it off your chest. Bottle up and explode, it's your choice, really. It seems to be true, if people will let you just try words on for size.

On the rare occasions that I try on clothes to purchase, I like most people need at least one additional perspective to convince me that the clohes fit right. Mirrors supposedly are there to help, and sometimes you'll get some wayward retail assistant to offer an opinion. But then, there's always that damn florescent lighting they have overhead, and you swear the mirror's angled or something. I couldn't possibly look like that. The way clothes are hung also mislead you. Trying to picture a flat object on a multi-sided surface is always a challenge once you actually stand there naked with the pants up to your knees. If you're like me, you laugh.

You just told me....
That's not what I meant.

I run my hands over clothes I've had for a really long time, long time between ages. I have this loud orange cableknit sweater from the Gap that I wore in my high school senior group photo. It's horribly stretched out. There aren't many seams, really, in a cableknit sweater. I never wear that thing, even when it's cold. But I keep it around, for reasons most of us can relate to but few of us can explain.

I never could dress myself. I never knew what looked good or right on me. I try different styles, but few of them work. I have clothes I've never worn outside the house. I put them on, but I couldn't leave the house. I like how they look, but they just don't fit in my life: how I move, sit, how I function. I want so badly for them to be me, but it just doesn't work.

I don't know what else to say.
I think I understand.

But still, I manage to not look strange in public. If anything, I'm sure it's an effort to not stand out at all, to blend in with the furniture. So there's function, there's utility. But every now and then, I'll try on something completely unlike me, just to see how it looks. When I was looking for prom dresses, I even went into a costume store and tried on a Gone With The Wind dress, all red and velvety with a hoop skirt, just to see how it would look on me. It looked outlandish, but not bad really. Instead I settled on a pink lacy thing that made me look like a wedding cake. Such are the choices we make when we don't know what we want.

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