...you Can't Unlearn Something, Even If You

I Love Ya, And It's Been A Really Good Fit For Me. But At Some Point, I Would Like To Try Something Else: A Collection Of Short Stories, Or Writing About Something Other Than High School. A Lot Has Happened To Me Since I Was Eighteen.

You Bought Me Some Forks. And Knives. And Spoons. Because You Love Me!

Something Had Changed In Me, Even If I Didn't Know What It Was Just Yet. All I Could Think Was That I Felt Alive For The First Time.

Despite My Dad's Assurances I Was Strangely Nervous My Stomach Tight Ever Since We'd Hung Up. Maybe Deb Had Picked Up On This And It Was Why She'd Pretty Much Talked Nonstop Since I'd Approached Her And Asked For A Ride. I'd Barely Had Time To Explain The Situation Before She Had Launched Into A Dozen Stories To Illustrate The Point That Things Happened But People Were Okay In The End.

Despite Our Differences, We Did Have A History. No One Understood Where I Was Coming From The Way He Did.