little

But sometimes, just the affirmation of time passing is enough. Because we were little. Little people living someone else’s big lives. Borrowed. Un-earned. We weren’t caviar. Weren’t hired gardeners. We didn’t tan, or say I love you with diamonds and reservation dinners. We were little. Like, picnics and hikes and scary movies half-watched in the dark. Something different. Something I cannot impose upon your senses, make you see. Something small. But something, always, unequivocally, irrevocably important.

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