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What does she think about in those last few seconds before she falls asleep at night? Does her mind swim in colors when she listens to music? How does she feel when she walks beneath the trees in the Garden District? When does she feel most afraid? Does she realize when she is acting brave? When she prays, does she mean it? Has she ever known God? Does she want to? When it’s late at night, and the world feels uncontainable, and the air is warm on her skin, who does she think about?
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“You have to forgive yourself. You have to work past that harmful, murderous shame and start to love yourself. Love yourself the way God loves you. The way Baker loves you.”
You make me feel, like—God, I don’t even know. Like being with you makes me a thousand times better than I am. Like my eyes are clearer when I look at things. And when I’m not with you, it’s like—like my heart can’t breathe. “I’m

