It was a decidedly depressing thought.
I looked at the mirror, with only my underwear on, which does not fit and have bulges coming out of them and my breasts hanging low as if my nipples are trying to kiss the ground I'm standing on and I thought of my friends with their boyfriends doing things I can't even imagine. I looked at the mirror reflecting on my mortality because well, the doctor said the chances are good but I'm morbid and I tend to imagine the worst thing that can happen.
I will die a virgin. An obese, 30 year old virgin who can't drive, haven't had a boyfriend and probably will lose both my breasts before the treatment is over.
Depressing.
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