The Girl Who Tries on Outfits for Events That Don't Exist
The Girl in Evening Gown in Her Bedroom
Dressed for a ball that won’t happen. Again.
There’s a ritual in slipping into something too grand for the room I’m in. I paint my eyes dark and twist my hair up high, imagining chandeliers that aren’t here. The mirror knows me better than I know myself. I smile at the absurdity, but don’t tell me it’s a waste — these nights are full, even if they’re full of nothing.
What I'm Into: smoky eyes, empty ballrooms, pearl-tipped pins, string lights, the sound of silence
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