Somehow that just felt stuck. Out of place in my mind. It was beautiful and tiring and hot, that summer. I wore a lot of dresses. I always had dresses in varying materials, all cool, all swingy, my legs grew strong and brown that summer.

But what is this? Why am I unafraid? I should be carrying the burden of worry on my shoulders and freaking out as usual. I’m not. I love. I am in love with this new / old thing. I am in love with you.