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Milestones. .I am standing in a field of bluebells, the likes of which I'll not see again, clutching fistfuls. I am ebulliently happy. This has something to do with my Laura Ingalls Wilder fantasies, but I still love bluebells regardless. .I am on an entirely different continent, in a country I've known I'd visit for two full years. I am in love with the awful smell, with the curry that burns my tongue, with adventure. .I am in a park, and he stands before me and stretches his arms wide. I step in; he is my very first boyfriend. .I am standing on a porch out of the rain. I ask him out, not knowing how disastrous this will all turn out in the end. .I am at the top of a fourteener, having run to the top. I am a tired glow, and strong. .I am typing a bittersweet email. For years I'll regret the eventual outcome; for years I'll feel strange connection to a man who may no longer remember my name. .I am listening to a song in the car. I should tell you that you were my first love. I should. 2009-05-04 - 7:47 p.m.
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