The first time I knew that I missed her, I didn’t even really know her. I just knew that the ache inside me could be called by only one name. Missing. Feeling the loss of something I had not yet had; this was foreign. It is uncharted territory to call familiar one who...
I know nothing. She is sitting in a park when I speak these words for the first time. I picture her there. Worn blanket hastily pulled from the trunk and hastily thrown on cool fall grass. Leaves overhead beginning to spiral their way into the approaching dormancy...
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