I imagine you're reading this because you've either stumbled upon it (I speak literally) or you know me and you somehow found this link because I either mentioned it to you or someone else mentioned it to you. It doesn't matter how you've ended up reading this, it just matters that you are reading this.
I could tell you how my story is so special and deserves significant merit and praise because it's so heartfelt and touching. Or I could tell you that my story is rough and compromising and sometimes leaves me wondering if my roommates can literally hear me moaning on my bedroom floor. The second statement would be more truthful.
I plan to give you a full background check on myself soon, that includes embarrassing pictures and excuse after excuse as to why and how I got so unhealthy and out of shape, but right now, in this minute, I want you to just prepare yourself. Mentally. Emotionally. Physically if you must. Do what you need to do, and I'll do what I need to do. Sharing my story with the world isn't something I necessarily want to do; it's something that I feel like I need to do. And my story is far, far from finished. In fact, I'm not even halfway there yet.
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