Van Gonzalez

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The night I met my first girlfriend, we spent almost three hours talking in my room. They sat on an inflatable couch, me on the edge of my bed. I was so nervous my words tumbled out of me like marbles. I am sure what I said was incomprehensible, mistaking oversharing for flirting, but I marveled at the space they held for me, and how they listened.
How Far the Light Reaches: A Life in Ten Sea Creatures
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