WHEN I WAS 19

I left my dorm in knee-deep snow before anyone else woke up. Dug my body into the cold, no destination in mind, just a girl buried in the stillness of morning.

WHEN I WAS 19

I burned bright red in arms that held me tight. If you were to ask him what it felt like to clutch such a fiery frame, he would have said “An experience, for sure, but she hurts.”

WHEN I WAS 19

God, I was all about the experience.

WHEN I WAS 19

I was 19 and nothing more. 19 and everything bold about being awake before everyone else. I was wandering and kissing and breaking and dreaming and fantasizing and planning and shuttling and doing nothing at all.

WHEN I WAS 19

That was my favorite part. Figuring out how to play with all of that nothingness, that snowy field, those vacant arms, so much everything in nothing. So much me in you.

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