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The rain against my window.

“This is going to be a problem.”


“What is?”


“You’re sentimental and I’m not. It’s just another day.”


She says this as we cruise through downtown Portland gaping at boarded up buildings, sometimes beautiful graffiti, and countless tents.


“13 may be an overrated milestone, but I think it’s important to do and see things that you wouldn’t normally do. Dream a bit. Step out.”


She humors me. And all I can hear is Ann Peebles’ “I can’t stand the rain against my window.” That deep, twitchy sensation of love and loss rattling about.


Damn straight I’m sentimental. And unapologetically so so so in love with her.


Just in case you’re reading, Peyton, I know the world feels more cruel than usual, but I promise you there is incredible beauty everywhere. Especially in you. Every single cell of you.

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