Remember those days? When you got butterflies at the mention of their name. When you daydreamed about kissing and holding their hand. When you wrote silly poems and listened to corny love songs over and over again. When those questions you used to ask as a kid. “How will I know I’m in love?” “How will I know they are the one?” “How will I know when it’s right?” And the person you asked simply said “you’ll know.” And then you realized they were right all along. Staying up all night on the phone, making plans for the future, picking out baby names for your future babies. Going to bed in the early AM to the sound of their breathing. No money to get a room. Not old enough to have your own place. But finding ways to spend private time with them, even in the most uncomfortable of places. Backseat of a car. On the floor. In closets and bathrooms. Knowing you only have 20 minutes before mom comes home from work, and feeling like that’s just enough time to try three positions. You’re still new to it all, but you enjoy learning the anatomy of lovemaking. Real sex ed. From fumbling with the condom and which way to put it on, to having an accidental “wrong hole” moment. The mistakes and bloopers and first time queefs. The laughs and tears and first time orgasms. Radio playing in the background. Steady on alert, making sure no one is pulling up in the driveway. Kissing. Rubbing. Touching. Loving. Fucking. Remember those days?

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