I was stuck. I was in this place, in between my future and my past and I wasn’t sure which one I wanted more. But I guess it was only natural, you know? To dream of a summer love from long ago or nights you spent with your friends you used to know. These people had long since gone and part of you wanted them back and God, you hated to admit it. That was the funny part — like admitting you missed people or things or times long ago made you weak or something, but it didn’t. And sometimes, I would curl up by my window and stare off into the stars, dreaming of my future; the love and friends I had yet to come. Part of me just wanted to throw myself into the future and the other part wanted me to hurl myself into my past.

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