There once was a piece of fear and a part of love and they were friends. That was me and you. We walked hand in hand, the summer we were seven, through the streets of SLC. On the hot pavement, our fingers intertwined, our breaths hot and fast in the summer air. It was going to rain.
Even if you’ve never flown, you know the sensation of flying so well, every gust of wind and feeling, as you turn in the air, swoop down, soar onward, into the wild freeness of that gold-yellow-blueness. You’ve longed for it since the very beginning of you.