El amanecer de un hola

Previously

…It wasn't perfect. It was messy, it was awkward, and it was undeniably him. He felt a surge of liberation, a quiet triumph that had nothing to do with acing a test or winning an award. It was the simple, profound acceptance of himself, flaws and all. He hit the submit button, and for the first time in weeks, the blinking cursor didn’t feel like a threat. It felt like a punctuation mark, a period at the end of a very long, very funny sentence. The Inner Critic, for once, was silent. The Muse of Mishaps winked and vanished, leaving behind only the faint scent of ozone and a single, perfectly formed, albeit slightly dented, orange.