“I don’t want to look like someone would be lucky to have me, I want to look like someone would be lucky to survive me. I don’t ride the wind; I am the wind and I am carving my topography with brushstrokes both delicate and bold.

…

I want her to have a heart like an ocean: endlessly vast, full of wonder, and navigable only by the brave.  I want her to wake up in the biggest, empty bed and stretch like a cat, taking all the space just because she can.”

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