Seventeen

How does it feel to be 17? I can conjure it easily. 17 feels like summer, sweat, salt. 17 feels like standing on a ledge, like being in full bloom. 17 feels like the end, like the beginning.

My husband and I have been together for 15 years and our first date was at McDonalds – A love story, Luana Holloway

Morning after night before. I’m 17 I smoke cigarettes in confined spaces while I blow dry my hair. I like the headache.

The Smiths. Fugazi. Patti.
I hear you before I see you. I feel like I manifested you reliving every lusty awkward moment we shared. Walking so cocksure, eating an icy pole I can see the salt on your skin, a scene drenched in high summer filter
Knock knock knock.
You want to take me for a ride. You have a car. A panel van. I was right I did manifest you.
Sublime. NOFX. Unwritten Law.
My mother was in the shower I just left. Call her you say, firm and serious. And just like that I become a listener.
McDonalds. I don’t eat McDonalds. Everybody eats McDonalds. You order me a Sundae you don’t ask me what I want. Everybody eats chocolate. Feed me the first mouthful my heart is racing so fast my stomach a contortionist. Gap tooth grin, you look at me like I’m a fucking queen. All the times I’ve been looked at but today you see straight through to me and in that moment I’m confronted with so much, so overwhelmed all I do is smile and hope you think I’m beautiful. I’m only 17 after all.
Drive home into the sun head on your shoulder the whole way we are bound together now. A 5 minute ride that has lasted 15 years.
Hand on heart if you had of asked me to marry you then and there I’d have said yes and we would have made it because you and I, we are written into a story that left us to question nothing

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