I noticed my curved shape in the mirror again tonight. Not broken. Not ashamed. Just different. It bends slightly to the left, like it carries its own direction, its own stubborn personality. Sometimes I wonder if it reflects me more than I admit — restless, intense, wanting connection but afraid of being fully understood. What does it want? Not just desire. Not only touch. It wants someone who won’t laugh at what makes it unique. Someone curious enough to trace every curve like a road on a secret map. Someone who understands that imperfections can become identity, and identity can become a… بیشتر بخوانید