This doesn’t belong, this is awkward. This is baggy and this is new,

But this fits. It’s cozy and close. It’s comfortable, like an old sweater in the back of a drawer of people you used to be. It’s a combination of them all, their best characteristics and worst traits. Her smile, the habit of another. The mixture is new, unrecognizable and mysterious, but comfort is in all. It takes a moment to understand, and even then, it is a thing of unmentionable beauty. Something worth looking at, you carry it like a textbook, ashamed and under your arm. You hope no one will notice, but it’s light burns through your insecurities. It has it’s own pride.