Funny thing about keeping a journal since high school.

You can go back and figure out the exact day your mind started rewriting history.

I remember the doe-eyed girl with the hopeless crush. I’d forgotten the hurt. Oh boy is it there.

But my resilience by sheer force of will … Damn. The 19-year-old version of me was pretty kickass.

I need to process this. Because, reasons.

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