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Spent, panting, and wiping tears from our eyes, we eventually make our way back to the living room, with the occasional aftershock chuckle between us. It’s the same feeling of old—the one like having a friend over for a sleepover, and staying up too late, when you can’t stop laughing even if it’s at nothing.
Despite only getting a few hours of sleep, my eyes shoot open at their typical five A.M. It’s as if I just laid her down, though, for how very much aware I am of Tait’s presence in my house. I could’ve listened to her happily prattle on all night, talking about some of her favorite places and experiences. Whenever she got to a particularly funny story or anecdote, her volume would increase more and more as she was telling it until she was effectively shouting by the end, completely oblivious. She’d apologize when she realized that she’d been yelling, and instinctively I know that someone’s
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Yet, she’s got a quiet confidence about her, never coming across as boastful or phony, just excited to share the things that I was, surprisingly, excited to listen to. As she got sleepier, her eyelids got visibly heavier, and her tired voice took on a husky tone that shot straight to my groin. The girl can’t lose a card game sportingly, though, no matter how unaffected she tries to act. My mind drifts back to the conversations from the night before, and shit, I smile when I remember how good we both were at keeping it light, only once turning cringe-worthy on my end.
The best part is when you get past all that and get to feel that peace, when you know the other person feels for you what you feel for them, and they’ve already seen you at your worst, smelliest self, or love the effort you’ve put into being high-maintenance and can actually appreciate it. When someone’s gotten to know all of that and still wants to get to know you more as you change and grow—to figure out the changing you, and you them. That’s the most intense and best feeling.”

