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One of the secrets of the universe was that our instincts were sometimes stronger than our minds.
Through all of youth I was looking for you without knowing what I was looking for —W. S. Merwin
Senior year. And then life. Maybe that’s the way it worked. High school was just a prologue to the real novel. Everybody got to write you—but when you graduated, you got to write yourself. At graduation you got to collect your teacher’s pens and your parents’ pens and you got your own pen. And you could do all the writing. Yeah. Wouldn’t that be sweet?
