I’m telling her to let it out, telling myself, too, tears forming at our bittersweet connection. I tell myself to inhale the future, exhale the past, and soon we’re holding on to each other tight, our arms encircled around each other. I love this girl, love what she’s come to mean to me. Love her as though she were mine, and it’s terrifying and it’s scary, but it fills me with hope, too.
