I am not me anymore, don’t you see? I am ever changing; like a rabbit molting its old fur and growing a new coat. You see, normally, we welcome the shed- we want it to happen and are so excited to see what the new coat would look like. But… whenever a new coat grows on me, you seem to hate it, the look of it even. Like its a weird color on me, or because its different than what your used to seeing. Isn’t that the point though? Each molt is supposed to be different than the last. Maybe I am being overdramatic or nit-picky, but after so long of being so scared to truly molt, I think maybe I am starting to realize that the version of me that I should be shedding,
should be the version of me with you in it.
